


Built from the Ashes

by Sabeley



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Bottom Even Bech Næsheim, Bottom Isak Valtersen, Drunk Isak Valtersen, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Interrupted Sex, Jealous Even Bech Næsheim, Jealous Isak Valtersen, M/M, Masturbation, POV Alternating, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Trapped In A Closet, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Versatile Evak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-29 08:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 43,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12627405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabeley/pseuds/Sabeley
Summary: “You do realize you’re acting like a child, right?" Jonas asked. "You’re a grown man in a fight with another grown man because you never learned how to share your toys on the playground.”Or the one where Even and Jonas are roommates who get along a little too well and Isak is not the least bit jealous about it at all (Except he totally is).





	1. Isak

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this is already written so updates will come as fast as I can edit the chapters. Enjoy!

In general, Isak does not consider himself a jealous person. In fact, his last boyfriend broke up with him because he mistook his blind trust for apathy—which, okay, it _was_ , a little bit—but Isak has always been a firm believer that if someone’s going to cheat, they’re going to cheat. There’s no reason to worry about it in the meantime. It’s a point of pride for him. It’s what makes him a damn good boyfriend. _Have dinner with your ex, text whoever you want, just come home to me._

Why, then, is it so impossible for him to apply these same rules to fucking Jonas? 

He really should have learned back in first year that interfering in Jonas’s relationships only ended in trouble, but that didn’t stop him from seething when he walked into Jonas’s apartment and saw him playing FIFA with his new roommate, Even. _He used to play FIFA with me_. There was no logic to this hatred, but something inside of him screamed “Mine!” anytime he saw Jonas making new friends. It had only taken his father three years to replace him with a better son. He couldn’t stand the thought of Jonas doing the same. 

The worst part of it was that Isak had actually _liked_ Even the first time they met (like really, _really_ liked him), but as the days wore on and Jonas and Even grew closer, as they began to spend more and more time alone together—taking up the time Jonas usually spent with _Isak_ —jealousy began to fester, turning him into some cartoonish version of himself that he didn’t even recognize. 

He was rude and mean and Even was so _nice_ about it in the beginning—like he thought maybe Isak was having a hard time with life in general and not him specifically—that it only made him angrier. Even now, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted from Even, but regardless, Even had stopped trying to give it to him. He now returned Isak’s ire (albeit with a more teasing lilt in his tone), paradoxically becoming the horrible person Isak had always imagined him to be. 

Annoying Isak had become like a game to Even and he hated him for it. He hated how cocky he was, how confident. He hated that he refused to leave him and Jonas alone for even a second, crowding onto the couch with them anytime they sat down to watch a movie, inviting himself out to dinner. But what he hated most was the incessant flirting, like Even could sense just how attracted Isak was to him and was determined to take advantage of that. 

Something burned inside of Isak every time they were together and he could no longer tell the difference between the jealousy and the lust. By now, he thought the two were probably feeding off of each other like parasites, the jealousy making the lust stronger and vice versa. It made for a lot of interesting boners. 

He slammed the door behind him so hard that the _Millennium Falcon_ poster on the wall rattled and both Jonas and Even looked his way immediately. Once satisfied that they weren’t being attacked by a particularly careless burglar, Jonas turned back to the game, determined to score a goal while Even was distracted, and, sure enough, Even couldn’t help but divert his attention from the screen to smirk at Isak. “Breaking and entering, I see?” he greeted and then turned back around before Isak even had a chance to roll his eyes. 

“The fucking door was unlocked,” he snapped. If Even heard him, he said nothing. He was back to pressing buttons on his game controller rapidly, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. Jonas still hadn’t said a word and Isak was only a second away from banging his head against the wall in frustration when Jonas finally scored his goal and was able to turn his attention back to Isak. 

“You’re early,” he smiled. Isak rolled his eyes. 

“I’m five minutes late,” he corrected. “The movie's about to start. Are you ready to go?” Jonas was very obviously _not_ ready to go. His hair was in disarray, which wasn’t unusual, but he was also still wearing pajama pants and Isak wouldn’t be surprised if he and Even had been sitting on the couch all day playing FIFA together. Without him. 

“Shit, no,” Jonas cried, springing up. Before he ran from the room, he clapped Even on the back of the head and Even winced. “Dude, what the fuck? You were supposed to warn me.” 

Even chuckled. “Sorry,” he grinned, looking right at Isak. “I must have forgotten.” 

Jonas rushed to his room and Isak watched through the open doorway as he began shuffling through a pile of dirty clothes on the floor, searching for a pair of jeans. He turned away once Jonas found them and was surprised to find that Even had climbed off of the couch and now had his head stuck inside the refrigerator, fishing out a beer. 

“Want one?” he asked, offering a can to Isak, who shook his head. 

Even shrugged and took a large gulp. Isak tried not to watch as his throat bobbed with every sip, but he found that he couldn’t stop staring and his obvious interest didn’t go unnoticed. When Even lowered the can from his wet lips, he was smirking. Isak blushed, but didn’t look away. He didn’t want to give Even that satisfaction. “Sorry for intruding on your little game night,” he said just to fill the silence. “I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” 

Even shrugged. “I don’t mind.” He ran his eyes over Isak’s body appreciatively. “Gives me something nice to look at.” 

Isak opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of a smart retort, and Even’s smile only grew more smug with every second that passed without one. Thankfully, they were interrupted by Jonas running back into the room, now dressed in jeans, but missing a shirt. He quickly fished one out of the dryer in the closet and pulled it on. 

“We’re going to the movies,” he said to Even once the shirt was over his head. His hair was even more of a mess now than it had been earlier, but Isak wasn’t about to point that out. Even nodded and that should have been that, but Jonas barreled on. “Want to come?” 

Isak’s face fell and he let out a sigh of frustration because he _knew_ what was about to happen. Despite the fact that Even had called this same movie “overhyped” and “unoriginal” the day before, despite the fact that he was always complaining about how high cinema prices were, despite the fact that he really should be studying for the exam he had the next morning, Isak _knew_ he was going to say yes because he never, ever missed an opportunity to take away the little bit of joy Isak’s life allowed him. 

“You know,” he said, drawing the words out as he smirked over at Isak. “I think I will. Sounds fun. Plus, it’ll piss off Isak, so bonus points.” Jonas was fully dressed now, just slipping into his shoes, and when Even turned to him, the teasing tone had left his voice. “Just let me grab my wallet. Hold on.” He downed the rest of his beer in three gulps and then left the room. 

Immediately, Isak rounded on Jonas. “What the fuck was that? Why would you invite him?” 

Jonas chuckled. “Dude, chill. It’s Even. He’s cool.” And then, for the millionth time: “You do realize you’re acting like a child, right? You’re a grown ass man in a fight with another grown ass man because you never learned how to share your toys on the playground.” 

Isak scoffed. “That is not what—” 

Jonas interrupted him by pulling him in for a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “You’re still my favorite. Promise.” Isak shouldn’t have needed Jonas’s reassurance, but it warmed his heart regardless. He couldn’t help but smile, but that smile was quickly wiped from his face when he looked up and saw Even watching them through narrowed eyes. Jonas followed his gaze. 

“Ready to go?” he asked and Even nodded. “Good. Maybe we won’t be late after all.” 

They filed out of the apartment, Even making sure he was sandwiched between Isak and Jonas—not allowing them even a second alone. He stayed there all night. 

* 

By the time Isak’s history lecture ended on Wednesday, he was ready to go home and sleep. He had pulled an all-nighter the day before to cram for a calculus test and the six bottles of Red Bull he’d drank had finally worn off. When he checked his phone, however, he found that luck was not on his side. Eskild had sent him a text asking him to stay away until he had properly wined and dined (and probably fucked) his Grindr date. 

Isak groaned his frustration to the heavens and considered just picking a random bench to take a nap on, but soon thought better of it. It would be getting dark soon and he was only wearing a light jacket. Despite everything, he didn't actually want to freeze to death. He texted Jonas instead. 

_I’ve been sexiled. Are you at home?_

Thankfully, the response came quickly. _Library. Usual spot._

Even better. Isak breathed a sigh of relief and walked across campus to the library instead. That was as good a place to nap as any. 

The library was packed when he walked in. The whole campus was in the throes of midterms and every single table he passed on the first floor was covered in notebooks and flashcards and laptops. He headed for the stairs instead and walked up three flights to join Jonas at their favorite study spot. It was a small four-person table in the back corner of the fourth floor, hidden behind the Quantum Physics section. They’d found it during the first week of class and adopted it as their own ever since. When he turned the corner, however, it wasn't Jonas he found sitting at their table, but Even. 

A flare of jealousy shot through him like an electric shock. That was their table. _Theirs_. Not his. Damn Jonas for bringing him here. He swallowed down his disappointment and approached the table like a man being led to the gallows. Once he reached it, he dropped his backpack to the floor with a heavy _thud_ and Even blinked up at him in surprise. Isak might have been imagining it, but he thought he even saw the flash of a smile. 

“Where’s Jonas?” he asked before sitting. It was always possible that Jonas had decided to _Parent Trap_ the two of them, but Isak hadn’t given him much time to plan if that was the case. It was far more likely that he was— 

“He went to the vending machine, I think,” Even answered. He had at least three notebooks sprawled out on the table in front of him, but he didn’t bother to move any of them out of Isak’s way as he sat down. Isak thought about doing it himself, but he was too tired, so he just collapsed on top of them instead, burying his head in his arms. He expected Even to start yelling at him, but he just chuckled instead. “Long day?” Isak let out a groan of assent and Even must have gotten the message that he wasn’t interested in talking because he didn’t ask any more questions. 

Isak wasn’t sure how long it was before Jonas returned, but he was pretty sure he dozed in the meantime because when he finally heard his voice above him, he flailed awake like a kid that had been caught sleeping in class. 

“You okay?” Jonas chuckled. Isak nodded, throwing a covert glance in Even’s direction to see if he had seen that embarrassing display of spasticity. He was looking back at Isak with a smug grin. Fuck. Of course he’d seen. 

“I’m fine,” Isak mumbled, dragging the chair next to him out from under the table with his foot. Jonas, however, did not sit. 

“I just got a text from Eva,” he explained, brandishing his phone in Isak’s direction. “She wants to grab dinner. Do you want to come with us?” 

Isak stared up at him in disbelief because, unlike Even, he actually knew when he wasn’t wanted. “No,” he snapped, frustrated beyond belief that Jonas had lured him here and was now ditching him. Jonas’s face crumbled under his anger and Isak immediately backtracked. “No, it’s fine,” he corrected, shaking his head. “You go have fun with Eva.” 

“You sure?” he asked excitedly and Isak just nodded. “Okay, well, if Eskild still won’t let you go home, feel free to crash at my place. I’ll probably be back there soon. We can watch _Narcos_ or something.” He clapped him once on the shoulder and then did the same to Even. “Later, dudes.” Then, without even an apologetic glance, he left Isak and Even alone. Fucking asshole. 

Even watched Jonas disappear over his shoulder and Isak watched Even. He took in the long line of his neck, the shine of his blonde hair, the fullness of his lips. He was much too tired to try to convince himself that he was unaffected, so he let himself stare and when Even finally turned back to him, he was _still_ staring, his reflexes too sluggish for him to look away in time. Even laced his fingers together and smirked, but instead of commenting on Isak’s obvious interest, he said, “You look like shit.” 

Startled, Isak laughed. He’d gotten used to Even complimenting his appearance in jest every time he saw him. He much preferred the insults—at least those he knew what to do with. “I was up all fucking night. Give me a break.” 

Even’s smirk grew wider. “And what, exactly, were you doing up all night?” he asked, his voice full of innuendo. “I could keep you company next time, if you’d like.” And they were back to the flirting. Isak rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the heat he felt rising to his cheeks at the thought of falling into bed with Even, feeling his skin and his lips on his body. Before his mind could get carried away, Even interrupted him with a laugh. “Twelve points to me.” 

Isak furrowed his brows in confusion. “Twelve points to you for what?” 

“It’s a game I play,” Even shrugged. “Two points if I can get you to roll your eyes. Five if you look away. Ten if you blush.” Isak thought he should probably be mad, but he didn’t have the energy for it. 

“Yeah? What’s the score?” 

“Well, you roll your eyes at literally everything I say, so…” Isak rolled his eyes. “See? Two points.” 

“I should make my own scoring system,” Isak noted. “Five points when you tell me I look hot. Ten when you offer to sleep with me.” 

Even grinned, like he was thrilled Isak had chosen to play along. “Well despite the bags under your eyes, you still look hot tonight, Isak. And I _would_ sleep with you.” 

“Fifteen points right there. I’m already winning.” 

Still smiling, Even turned back to whatever it was he was working on, sliding one of his notebooks out from under Isak’s elbows and causing him to almost faceplant on top of the desk. Isak glared at him; Even ignored it. 

More than anything, Isak wanted to go home and sleep and while he was grateful for Jonas’s offer, he didn’t actually want to spent the night alone with Even. He glanced down at his phone, hoping Eskild had given him the all clear, but instead he found a text from Jonas. 

_Sorry I left you alone with him. Play nice. He has a meeting at 6 so he’ll be gone soon._

Gratitude flooded Isak’s body. Maybe Jonas wasn’t such a bad friend after all. He just had to wait it out and then he would be alone once more, no longer overthinking everything he was saying, no longer fighting his racing heart. But six came and went and still Even sat there, staring down at his textbook like it was the most interesting thing he had ever read. Isak didn’t know whether he’d forgotten about his meeting or if he’d just chosen not to go, but he grew irrationally angrier by the minute, cursing the time alone that he had almost been allowed. 

“Why are you glaring at me?” Even asked a few minutes later, looking up from his textbook with a raised eyebrow. 

Isak forced himself to relax. “I’m not glaring,” he snapped, even though he knew he was. 

“Yes, you were,” Even corrected, clicking his pen off and setting it down onto the table so that he could steeple his hands in front of him, piercing blue eyes examining Isak for any sign of a lie. “You know how I know? Because you’re always glaring at me. Why do you hate me so much, Isak?” He was teasing now and Isak once again rolled his eyes, cursing himself in his head as he did so. Fuck, two points. “Is it the Jonas thing?” Even continued. “Are you jealous? Because you can have him. He’s too hipster for me.” 

“I’m not jealous!” Isak sputtered out indignantly, making it quite obvious that he was, in fact, jealous. He then processed the second half of Even’s statement. “He’s too hipster for _you_? You work in a fucking coffee shop!” 

Even chuckled. “Touché.” Isak thought that was the end of it, but apparently Even wasn’t done. It was the first time they’d ever been alone together and obviously he had been holding back under Jonas’s watchful eye. “I’ve never had an enemy before,” he mused. “It’s kind of fun. Is it normal to want to sleep with your enemies? I don’t think Batman ever wanted to sleep with the Joker, but I could be wrong about that. I mean, he _was_ kind of hot. Or maybe I’m just thinking of Heath Ledger. Are archenemies different than regular enemies? Do you have to be a superhero for that?” 

“Well if anything could make us archenemies, it’s definitely this conversation,” Isak noted and Even laughed. 

“It’s kind of intimate, don’t you think,” he said in a low voice, like they were sharing secrets. “Being enemies?” 

Isak looked up in surprise at his choice of words and found that Even had leaned closer to him over the table, his eyes wide and imploring. He licked his lips, drawing Isak’s attention to them, and Isak was just thinking about how much easier it would be to fall asleep if he had a nice orgasm first, when they were once again interrupted. 

“There you are.” Isak looked up to find a boy with floppy brown hair and big, puppy dog eyes staring down at them. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” It took Isak a second to realize he was talking to Even. 

“Oh, hey,” Even said in surprise, the tension leaving his body as he spoke with his friend. He gave the boy a genuine smile and it looked so good on him that Isak felt a flicker of desire low in his belly. “What’re you doing here?” 

Mikael shrugged, gathering Even’s notebooks into a pile so that he could sit down in the vacant seat next to him. “I got bored and I know you said you were studying, but Adam’s not answering his phone, so you’re all I’ve got to entertain me.” He turned to look at Isak. “Hi, I’m Mikael.” 

“Isak,” he introduced in a slow drawl, trying to decide if he was supposed to hate this guy too just on principle alone. Mikael’s bright smile quickly told him that would be impossible. 

“ _You’re_ Isak?” he laughed. “Dude, I didn’t think I was ever going to meet you. Even talks about you _all_ the time.” 

It was Isak’s turn to smirk. He rounded on Even with a smug grin and found that the boy’s cheeks were a bright pink. Isak hadn’t even known he was capable of blushing. It was a glorious sight. “Ten points for me,” he said. Even rolled his eyes. 

* 

_Pre-game at my place tonight?_

It was Friday afternoon and Isak’s weekend had just started. His brain had been offline since lunch, so he just stood there outside of the science building for a long time, staring at Jonas’s text, trying to decide how to reply. On the one hand, Jonas _did_ have the biggest apartment with the largest TV and the best gaming system. On the other, he also had Even and Isak had had about enough of him for one week. The banter got a bit draining after a while. 

He was still debating the pros and cons, trying to calculate whether alcohol would help the Even situation at all, when Jonas texted again. _He's going out tonight. He won't be home._

Isak grinned as he typed out a reply. _Well, in that case..._

Mahdi and Magnus were already at the apartment when Isak barged in—Mahdi playing FIFA with Jonas, Magnus sprawled out on the couch watching them—but, to his displeasure, so was Even. He was sitting on the arm of the couch, talking to Magnus, and Isak was just about to start fuming when he noticed the jacket thrown over his shoulder, like he really was about to leave. Even glanced his way, let his eyes trail across his body, and then turned back to Magnus without offering a greeting. When Isak looked to Jonas instead, the boy widened his eyes pointedly. _Play nice._

Isak rolled his eyes, but made his way to the fridge regardless. He needed alcohol. Now. He grabbed the first beer he saw and popped the cap before joining his friends in the living room. 

"That's mine," Even said immediately, pointing to the beer. Isak was past the point of caring. He stared Even straight in the eyes as he took several large gulps. Even smirked. 

"Well," Even said, standing as Isak sank down into the faded armchair he'd helped Jonas bargain for at a flea market over the summer. "I think that's my cue to go." 

Immediately, Magnus whined, reaching out to grab Even by the wrist like that might stop him. "No, you've got to stay! You're the only one that's nice to me." 

Even chuckled. "I'll be back later, Mags," he said, wrenching his arm out of his grasp. "Wouldn't want to ruin Isak's night. He doesn't want me here." 

Isak, who had been determinedly ignoring him, whipped his head around in surprise. "I didn’t say that!" he cried, his traitorous cheeks flushing once more. Damn them. 

"I didn’t say you said it," Even shrugged. "But you're thinking it." 

Isak threw his arms up in exasperation, sloshing beer all down his front. Fuck. "It's _your_ apartment," he said, trying to act unbothered by the sticky liquid trailing down his arm. "You can stay if you want. I don't give a fuck." 

Even cocked a doubtful eyebrow, but Magnus interrupted before he could say anything. "What the fuck is up with you two?" he laughed, clearly enjoying the show. 

Even leaned in to whisper in his ear conspiratorially, but his voice was loud enough for the whole room to hear. "We're archenemies. Didn't you hear?" 

Magnus laughed at that like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard and even Jonas and Mahdi chuckled. Isak felt his cheeks heat under the attention because he knew the laughter was at his expense. Angrily, he took another long sip of his beer. 

"Don't worry," Even said, turning back to him as he finally shrugged into his jacket. "I'm leaving. Gotta hot date tonight.” He paused, eyes scanning Isak once more, lingering for just a bit too long on his lips. “Unless you have any objections?" 

Isak turned back to the TV, ignoring the pit that had suddenly formed in his stomach. 

"We'll be out late," Jonas tossed over his shoulder as Even made his way towards the door. “So you can bring her back here if you want." 

"Thanks," Even said and then, with one last glance in Isak's direction, he was gone. The door had barely shut behind him before Magnus snorted. 

"Dude," he said to Isak. "What the hell was that?" 

"Nothing," Isak mumbled, downing the last of his first can of beer. "He just likes messing with me, that's all." 

"To be fair," Jonas pointed out from his spot on the floor, pausing to shoot a goal on the game before finishing his thought. "You're the one that started it." 

Isak rolled his eyes, but he couldn't actually deny the accusation. "Shut up." 

"It was like the start of a fucking porno," Magnus continued excitedly. "Like you stole his beer and he was going to punish you for it." 

"That was actually tame for them," Jonas added. 

Isak groaned in frustration. "Oh my god, shut up. People are allowed to not get along. I fight with Magnus too, but you don’t accuse me of wanting to fuck him." 

"Yeah," Magnus acquiesced. "But that seemed a lot like foreplay, dude. When you yell at me, you’re just angry. When you yell at him, you’re like _sexy_ angry." 

Isak stayed silent, trying not to think back to the night before when he had stroked himself to orgasm in the shower, hot water beating against his skin as he thought about how pretty Even had looked when he blushed—and how much prettier he would look if he used his taunting lips to tease a part of Isak other than his mind. 

"I need another beer," he mumbled, determined to stop his dick from hardening in his pants. He wasn’t going to spend the night with a boner on Even’s behalf—especially not one that he would have to get rid of himself. He headed into the kitchen, more determined than ever to spend the night drunk off his ass, not thinking about Even or the girl he was planning to fuck at all. 

* 

When Isak woke up the next morning, it took him a good thirty seconds to figure out where the fuck he was and it probably wound have taken him even longer than that if he hadn’t spotted Jonas’s dark, curly hair tangled on the pillow next to him. He sat up with a groan, his head already pounding against his skull, and glanced around at the organized chaos that was Jonas’s room. He wasn’t a tidy person by nature, but now chip bags and empty beer cans littered his floor. Isak couldn’t remember exactly what they’d gotten up to the night before, but he knew that copious amounts of alcohol had been involved. He was sorely regretting that decision now. 

He thought about waking Jonas up to tell him goodbye, but he knew that would only annoy him, so he quietly slithered out of the bed, grabbed his shoes, and then left the room, shutting the door carefully behind him before rushing into the bathroom across the hall to empty his very full bladder. 

Afterwards, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, noting that the harsh light was doing him no favors. His skin look oily and sallow after his night out and the dark bags under his eyes were even darker than usual. He looked sick, but thankfully he didn’t actually feel like throwing up. He washed his hands, splashed water on his face, smoothed down his hair, and then made his way towards the living room, hoping that maybe he would be able to escape the apartment without running into either Even or the girl he had been planning to bring home with him. 

He was distracted by the smell of coffee—so distracted, in fact, that he noticed _that_ before he noticed the sound of the TV playing in the background. Once he had noticed the latter, however, he couldn’t help but turn in that direction to find Even sitting crossed legged on the sofa, shirtless, with a bowl of cereal balanced in his lap. Isak’s already painfully dry mouth grew even more parched at the sight of so much bare skin on display and the voice inside his head that screamed “Mine!” anytime he caught Jonas and Even laughing together was suddenly screaming “Mine!” for a very different reason. 

He’d never afforded himself the opportunity to just _look_ at Even, but god he was beautiful— _especially_ when he didn’t know he had an audience. His shoulders were slumped casually and he was eating his cereal with a careless gusto that Isak had never seen on him before. _This is Even_ , he realized. _This is what he looks like when he isn’t on guard_. _This is what Jonas gets to look at all day long_. 

Isak let out a heavy sigh, giving up on any chance of escaping Jonas’s apartment unscathed, and dropped his shoes to the floor so that he could slink into the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee. 

“Hey,” Even said, his voice happy and light. Isak looked up in surprise at his cheery tone and quickly realized what the problem was: he was so enthralled in his television program that he hadn’t yet realized he wasn't talking to Jonas. “You have fun last night?” 

Isak grunted out a reply, grabbing one of Jonas’s mugs from the cabinet and pouring himself a large cup of coffee. It tasted like heaven when he finally brought it to his lips. 

“That good, huh?” Even chuckled. “You get anywhere with Eva?” 

Although Isak thought he could probably carry on their conversation using only grunts, the hot liquid soothed his throat enough to actually speak. “Well,” he started and at the sound of his voice, Even whipped his head around in surprise. “He woke up in bed with _me_ , so I’m going to go with no.” 

Even’s face flushed and if Isak wasn’t mistaken, he actually looked _shy_. He thought about making fun of him for it, but he was too tired to bother. The yelling would only aggravate his headache. Even opened and closed his mouth several times, but ended up not saying anything at all. 

“What?” Isak asked and Even’s blush only darkened. 

“Um, nothing,” Even muttered, setting his cereal bowl on the coffee table in front of him, but it was obviously something. Isak cocked an eyebrow. “No, it’s just…” He sighed, like he was frustrated that he couldn’t find the right words, and then shrugged helplessly. “I just thought Jonas was straight, that’s all.” 

Isak snorted. “Jonas is straight. Or if he’s not, he doesn’t know it yet.” 

Even shook his head in confusion. “What?” 

Isak, feeling like he had somehow missed part of their conversation, just stared. “What what?” 

“Well, how does that work?” Even asked, frustrated. He was starting to get angry, but Isak wasn’t sure if his anger was directed towards their conversation or him. “Is he just experimenting with you or—?” 

“Experimenting with me?” Isak interrupted. “What are you—?” He broke off as the realization of what Even was implying hit him. “Oh my god!” he cried, flailing backwards in disgust at the mental image Even had created. “Me and Jonas? Are you kidding? We aren’t _fucking_. He just let me crash here because I was too drunk to get home by myself. What the fuck? Did you seriously think there was something going on between us? He’s my best friend!” 

Even threw his arms in the arm. “What the fuck was I supposed to think?” he cried, getting defensive. Isak burst out laughing. “You literally send me death glares if I so much as look at him. I told you you could have him in the library the other night and you didn’t bother correcting me.” 

“I thought you were joking!” 

Even sobered, looking over at Isak like his whole world had been tilted on its axis. “I thought for sure you were in love with him,” he sighed, face painted with disbelief. “You’re not?” 

Isak shook his head as his laughter died down. “No, dude. I might have entertained the idea once upon a time, but not anymore.” 

Even’s face crumbled and he looked so lost in that moment that Isak honestly felt bad for him. He was staring over at him helplessly, like he was being tossed about in a stormy sea and needed Isak to throw him a life raft. Isak was just about to offer him an apology—for what, he wasn’t sure—when Jonas’s plodding footsteps sounded from down the hall. Even turned in that direction, his blush only growing darker, and even without him asking, Isak could decipher the plea in his eyes to keep quiet about what had just transpired. 

“Morning,” Jonas mumbled when he spotted the two of them, Even still on the couch and Isak leaning against the counter next to the coffee pot. Jonas’s hair was two inches taller than usual and he looked adorably rumpled from sleep. 

“Morning,” Isak replied cheerily. Even’s embarrassment had woken him far better than the coffee did. He offered Jonas his mug instead and he drank it gratefully. “Even was just asking me whether you made a move on Eva last night.” 

At the sound of her name, a dopey smile came over Jonas’s face and when he turned to regale Even with his adventures from the night before, Isak gestured to him from behind his back. _See? Straight_. Isak could almost see how hard Even was having to resist the urge to roll his eyes and it brought him some perverse pleasure to watch him struggle. 

“Oh, Even,” Jonas said after a few minutes, interrupting his own monologue. “Isak and I have to go to that new art installation this afternoon to get credit for our art history class. You want to come? I know you’re into shit like that.” 

Even, who looked like he was still lost in his own little world, forced his attention back to Jonas. It took him several long seconds to answer. “Oh, no, that’s fine,” he said, waving him off. “You two go. I’ve got some studying I need to catch up on.” Jonas nodded, like that was a perfectly reasonable excuse, but Isak was _floored_ at his sudden apathy. Never—not once—in the two months Jonas and Even had been living together had Even let them leave the house alone. He always tagged along like a lost puppy. Like a shadow. Like a _chaperone_. 

Isak was still reeling as Even stood from the couch and grabbed his cereal bowl to bring to the kitchen. Jonas moved out of his way, but Isak stood frozen, leaning against the counter right next to the sink. Even watched him as he moved closer, his face more open than it usually was when he looked at Isak, but Isak was more distracted by the pale skin of his chest, bared before him. He’d known Even was skinny, but he had no idea that under his baggy clothes was hidden long stretches of lean muscle. God, this wasn’t going to help him stop jerking off to the memory of their fights _at all_. 

He traced the pattern of Even’s freckles with his eyes until he spotted a dark purple bruise on the side of his neck. Isak hastily tore his gaze away and tried to hide his blush. Even, noticing his sudden discomfort, followed the path Isak’s eyes had taken with his fingers until he felt the sting of the bruise himself. He quickly turned away, muttering a hurried “I should get dressed” to Jonas before leaving the two of them alone. 

“You know,” Jonas mused, watching him disappear around the corner. “I think that’s the most civil the two of you have ever been to each other.” 

* 

After nursing their hangovers for a few hours, Isak and Jonas piled into Jonas’s car to head to the local art museum. Jonas had the radio blasting, but despite the distraction, Isak couldn’t get his earlier conversation with Even out of his head. Although he knew Even didn’t want him telling Jonas, Isak’s loyalty was to Jonas first and foremost. “You’ll never believe what Even said to me this morning,” he chuckled, turning the music down enough so that Jonas could hear him. 

“What?” Jonas asked warily. Isak was sure he’d listened to the two of them gripe about each other enough over the past few weeks that it wasn’t exactly a conversation starter he welcomed. 

“When he saw me come out of your room, he thought we were fucking,” Isak said incredulously. “Can you believe that? I think he thought I was like in love with you or something.” 

Jonas _did_ start laughing at that. “Oh, wow,” he said, shaking his head at his roommate’s idiocy. Isak expected him to go off on a tangent of disbelief—maybe to get offended at the idea that he would ever settle for Isak of all people—but all he did was grin stupidly and turn to Isak, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “That explains so fucking much.” 


	2. Even

Even was a fucking idiot. 

"I'm a fucking idiot," he whined as he and Mikael sat in the break room of the coffee shop they worked at. The whole place smelled like coffee beans, which Even usually found relaxing, but today it was giving him a headache. Mikael patted him on the back soothingly. "I've been acting like a jealous freak for _weeks_ and the thing I've been jealous of _doesn't even fucking exist_. I was so positive he had a thing for Jonas. Any chance I had with him is completely ruined now." 

"To be fair," Mikael mused. "He hated you way before you started acting like a jealous freak." 

Even groaned and dropped his head down on top of his arms, which were folded on the table in front of him. His fucking life, seriously. 

There were only a few moments in Even's life that he could look back on and know, unequivocally, that that is when everything changed: when he met Mikael for the first time, when he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, when he broke up with Sonja. He got that feeling when Isak walked into his apartment on the day he moved in, looking for Jonas. Even had been coming off of a depressive episode, questioning his own sanity for moving out of his parents' house and in with a stranger, but when Isak walked through that door, the sun started shining again for the first time in weeks and Even was instantly smitten. Maybe that's why it hurt so much that Isak saw him only as a storm cloud hovering over his life. 

He figured out what the problem was quickly. Or at least he _thought_ he had. It wasn't difficult when Isak practically growled anytime he got within two feet of Jonas. It shouldn’t have bothered him. Jonas had more of a right to him than Even ever would, but the thought of Isak—grumpy, clever, beautiful Isak—crushing on someone that wasn't him just felt _wrong_. And because he couldn't very well take his aggravation out on Jonas, who he lived with and actually liked quite a lot, he took it out on Isak instead, giving back to him just as good as he got, only with a little more flirting on the side because he had to channel that sexual frustration somewhere. 

"I just don't understand," Even said for probably the fifth time, finally sitting up to try to face the world. Mikael rolled his eyes at the dramatics. "If he's not in love with Jonas, then why the fuck does he hate me so much? I'm a likable person. _You_ like me!" 

Mikael chuckled. "I mean, I like everyone, so I'm not sure that's the metric you want to use." He paused, frowning as Even continued to wallow. "Do you remember when I first started hanging out with Adam and all of the guys? You were _so_ jealous. You _hated_ them." 

"Well, yeah," Even shrugged sheepishly. "But that was because I thought you were going to like them better and forget all about me." Mikael raised his eyebrows pointedly and Even felt a thrill of excitement bubbled in his belly. "You think that's what Isak's doing?" 

"I do," Mikael nodded. "You just need to show him that you're not a threat to his relationship with Jonas. Be nice to him. Stop tagging along on their friend dates. I would hate you too." 

Even blushed. "I was just—" 

"Trying to make sure they didn't start making out with each other?" he asked with a smirk. "Yeah, I know. Jealous, much?" 

After their fifteen minute break was up, they went back to the floor where Mikael started mixing drinks while Even took orders. It was monotonous work, but it kept his mind occupied and helped pay the rent. It was a busy afternoon and Even was running around so fast, taking and helping Mikael fill orders, that he didn't spot Isak until he was standing right in front of the counter. He wasn't a frequent visitor by any means—probably because he'd stopped coming altogether once he found out Even worked there—but it was the closest coffee shop to his apartment and apparently sometimes a caffeine fix was worth the mild annoyance. 

Even's eyes widened in surprise, but Isak didn't even make eye contact as he rambled out his order, just continued typing a text on his phone. Even stared for probably too long, noting how Isak's hair looked curlier than usual, like he might have fallen asleep with it still wet, until Isak finally looked up at him and rolled his eyes. Two points. "Right," Even said, pressing the corresponding buttons on the cash register. "Can I interest you in a pastry from the display case? Our special today is—" 

Isak waved him off. "Just the coffee." Even rung up the total and Isak paid without a word. Even wanted to say something else, to start a real conversation, but before he could think of anything, Isak had slunk away from the counter, still staring at his phone, and settled into an empty table by the window where he pulled out his laptop and started working. Even continued staring until the next customer in line cleared her throat. When he turned, she was smirking at him knowingly. 

To Even's surprise, Isak stayed in the coffee shop all afternoon, eventually attracting the attention of even Mikael, who nudged him in the ribs painfully once he caught sight of him. "Go talk to him," he hissed, shoving a plate of chocolate cake in his hands along with two forks. Even’s first instinct was to argue, but he'd been practicing a greeting in his head for about two hours now, so Mikael's encouragement was all he needed to force himself out from behind the counter and across the room. 

Isak was still sitting at his small table by the window, the sun illuminating his blonde curls, and Even swallowed hard at the sight. What was he thinking? He couldn't do this. But still, he pressed on. Isak didn't even look up as he approached, but that settled Even's nerves somewhat. He didn't feel like he was being put on the spot. Without a word, he set the cake in the middle of Isak's table unceremoniously and collapsed into the chair across from him. 

"I didn't order—" Isak started, but then he looked up and spotted Even. "Did you bring me cake?" He said it like an accusation, but Even just brushed it off, grabbing his own fork and taking a large bite. 

"I brought _me_ cake," he lied, his mouth still full. "I brought _you_ a fork." He slid it across the table and Isak caught it right before it fell off the edge. He watched Even warily as he took another bite, like he thought this might all be some sort of practical joke. Even felt his cheeks begin to burn under the attention. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, Isak reached out and grabbed a bite, making a pleased hum as the chocolate touched his tongue. Even preened. 

"Eskild sexiling you again?" he asked because that was the only explanation he had come up with for why Isak was still there. Plus, if there was one thing Even had learned over the past couple months, it was that Isak loved to complain—usually about Even, but Eskild would do in a pinch. 

Isak groaned. "Yes," he said, taking another bite of cake and then checking his phone, as if he were hoping Eskild had texted him. "They've been fucking for like a week straight and I'm trying to be a good bro or whatever, but I miss my bed." 

Even opened his mouth, a flirtatious retort already prepared out of habit ("Feel free to use mine."), but he choked it down. "I'm sorry," he said instead. He was unsurprised when Isak looked up at him, brows furrowed, like he was pretty sure Even had lost his damn mind. Maybe he had. 

“Why are you being nice to me?” he finally asked, setting his fork back down on the empty plate. “It’s weird.” 

Even shrugged and, sensing that any sort of deeper conversation would be unwelcome, stood, picking up the plate to take back to the kitchen. “Even archenemies have to get along sometimes,” he said. “For the greater good.” Isak looked very much like he wanted to ask what that greater good was, but Even ambled off before he could. It hadn’t been a life-altering, soul-changing conversation by any means, but it was a start. 

* 

Even had been pacing in front of Jonas's door for what felt like hours, trying to find the courage to knock. The idea had come to him unbidden as he rode the tram home from work and now he couldn’t shake it. He felt a little bit like an old-timey suitor forced to declare his intentions towards the one he was trying to woo, but Jonas knew Isak better than anyone and Even was man enough to admit that he needed help. Or, well, he _would be_ man enough to admit it. In five more minutes. 

Before he could fully prepare himself, however, the door was yanked open and Jonas startled backwards at the sight of Even standing in front of him. Even willed himself not to blush. _Be cool_. 

“Um,” he floundered, struggling to find his footing. “I made dinner if you want some.” 

Any awkwardness was forgotten as Jonas’s face lit up in delight. “Yeah? You’re the best roommate ever, dude.” 

It wasn’t a lie. Even _had_ made dinner. It was just spaghetti with canned marinara dumped on top of it, but it was better than the frozen dinners Jonas had been eating as of late. He’d planned on offering it to him as a thank you for his help, but using it to butter him up first worked just as well. The boys piled their plates full and then sat down at their tiny kitchen table to eat. Even only picked at his food, his stomach tangled in knots, but Jonas was inhaling the spaghetti so fast that Even was surprised he found the time to breathe between bites. Even watched him with stunned fascination before finally broaching the subject he’d been thinking about all afternoon. 

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he started. 

Jonas chuckled. “Is this about the cake thing?” he asked around a mouthful of food. Even’s face immediately flamed. 

“Oh my god, he already told you about the cake?” he groaned. 

“I mean, on Saturday you were accusing him of sleeping with me and today you’re offering him free cake? It’s a little weird, dude.” He told him about that too? Fuck. 

“I didn’t—” Even started, feeling like maybe he should apologize for making such a rash assumption, but Jonas just waved him off and took another large bite of spaghetti, sucking the noodles into his mouth because he couldn’t be bothered to cut them. 

“It’s fine,” he said with an amused grin. “I’m a little flattered, actually, that you think he’d go for me. Have you seen the guys he sleeps with? Dude’s got mad game.” 

Even bristled in his seat. Yes, he had seen. Seen and seethed in silence as he watched Isak disappear from parties with a different guy hanging off of him every night. It had always brought him some modicum of comfort to think that at least they weren’t Isak’s first choice—at least they weren’t _Jonas_ —but now that he knew Jonas wasn’t even in the picture, he wasn’t quite sure what to think. 

“I just…” Even started, but then trailed off as he tried to decide how to finish that sentence. _I just want to talk to him, to kiss him, to date the fuck out of him_. Although all of those reasons were true, he wasn’t brave enough to say them aloud. He knew that Jonas’s loyalty would always be to Isak first. He couldn’t run the risk of any of those desires getting back to him, so instead he voiced one that he could. “I just don’t want him to hate me,” he shrugged. 

Jonas looked at him contemplatively as he chewed the last bite of his dinner. “Look,” he said with a sigh, dabbing his mouth with his napkin and then leaning back in his rickety wooden chair. “Isak’s parents fucked him up big time when he was a kid. His mom’s sick, his dad ran off and left him, and now he has more trust issues than anyone I’ve ever met. You just have to give him time to trust you—you have to give him a _reason_ to trust you. He hated Mahdi for a good two months. He _still_ hates Magnus.” 

He paused and stared deep into Even’s eyes until it felt like he was seeing into his soul. Even didn’t dare blink. “And maybe stop flirting with him so much?” Jonas added with a frustrated sigh. “Even if you’re serious, he doesn’t trust flirting. He thinks you just want to sleep with him and I’m guessing—since you brought this conversation up in the first place—that that’s not all you want.” 

Even’s already red face darkened, but he didn’t dare say anything in case all of his secrets came tumbling out at once. Jonas had that effect on him. After several long seconds without a reply, Jonas snorted. “Did you really think _I_ was the one he wanted to sleep with?” Even’s dejected frown must have been answer enough because Jonas just started laughing as he gathered their plates and headed towards the sink. “Dude. You’re both helpless.” 

* 

Even stayed awake all night googling tips on how to make someone fall in love with you, and, when that failed, instead began to marathon every rom-com he could think of that might help him out of his current predicament: _Sweet Home Alabama_ , _27 Dresses_ , _The Proposal_. It wasn’t exactly helpful, per se, but it did give him some hope. 

The only class Even and Isak shared was their Intro to Chemistry lecture on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. It was Even’s least favorite class, but he’d wanted to get his core science credit out of the way early. He understood less than half of what the professor said and missed half of what he _did_ understand because Isak sat a few rows down, right in his line of sight, and he was so ridiculously distracting that it was sinful. Unless the next pop quiz asked him to draw a diagram of the freckles on the left side of Isak’s face, he was pretty much screwed. But, being ever resourceful, Even saw an opportunity and he seized it. 

When he walked into class on Thursday, he bypassed his usual seat entirely and instead shuffled through an already crowded row to take the empty seat next to Isak. Isak, who had been talking to Magnus on his other side, turned to him in surprise and then rolled his eyes once he realized who it was. Two points. 

“God,” Isak groaned. “I just can’t get away from you.” 

“Do you really want to?” Even asked. “Last time I brought you cake.” 

Magnus’s eyes widened in excitement. “You brought him cake? What the hell? I thought we were friends, Even. Where’s my cake?” 

Even chuckled. “Come by the shop tonight. I’ll get you some cake.” Magnus smiled pleasantly and then turned back to his laptop as Even busied himself unpacking his own supplies. Isak’s eyes never left him and Even could feel them against his back like a physical touch. 

“What are you doing here?” Isak finally asked once Even had his notebook sitting in front of him. 

Even frowned. “Learning chemistry?” 

Isak rolled his eyes (two points). “Not here as in this room. Here as in this _seat_. This isn’t your seat. You don’t sit here.” 

“We don’t have assigned seats,” Even pointed out. “And no one sits here anyway.” 

Isak shook his head in bemusement. “And how the fuck do you know that?” 

_Because I’ve been watching you_. Even blushed at just the thought of saying those words aloud, but they _were_ true and all of his current problems seemed to stem from a distinct lack of communication, so withholding them felt like a lie. Isak would never trust him if he kept lying. He waffled with himself for several seconds, but finally spit out, “Because I pay attention.” He paused and then continued, figuring what the hell did he have to lose at that point. “To you.” 

Magnus cooed from next to Isak, but Isak’s jaw only tightened. Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to be flirting. Desperate to change the subject, he reached for the one thing that Isak might be able to talk about objectively without his distaste for Even coloring the conversation. “Hey, did you understand the homework last night?” 

“Uh, yeah, Even,” Isak snapped. “I’m not a fucking idiot.” 

Even bit back a smart retort, determined to keep his cool. “Good,” he said instead, trying to actually sound happy about it. “Because I didn’t.” Isak looked up at him in surprise, his cheeks flushing beautifully as he realized that he had inadvertently called Even a fucking idiot and actually _meant_ it, but Even couldn’t be bothered to care about that. An apologetic Isak might actually work in his favor this time. “Do you think you could explain it to me?” 

Isak shook his head, as if his thoughts were moving too quickly. Even thought he might be giving him whiplash and he felt a little bit bad about it, honestly, but whiplash was an improvement on outright hatred. “Um, sure?” he finally answered, but it definitely came out as a question, like he couldn’t quite believe that Even was asking in the first place. 

Then, without further prompting, he slid his notebook closer to Even and began going over the stoichiometry they were assigned step-by-step. Even tried to pay attention—he really did—but he had never had the pleasure of listening to Isak’s voice for a prolonged period of time. Especially when he wasn’t yelling. He fell victim to it like a siren call, letting the honey-coated words embrace him until he got lost in them. 

It was only when Isak looked over to make sure Even understood his explanation that Even realized he had been staring at Isak instead of the notebook. He quickly averted his gaze. If Isak found it odd, he didn’t comment on it. Apparently stoichiometry was the one thing that could distract him from his anger. Isak had to stop talking when their professor walked into the room to start class, but Even was so grateful that he had put their feud aside to help him that he couldn’t resist offering something in return. 

“Did Jonas tell you we’re having a party at our place on Saturday?” he whispered, careful not to let his voice carry in the crowded auditorium. 

Isak looked over at him once more, clearly offended that Even was still talking even though the lecture had started. “He said _you_ were,” he hissed, turning back to the front so that he was facing the professor. 

“You should come,” Even shrugged, like it didn’t mean anything to him either way, even though it really, really did. Isak’s mouth fell open, like he had finally reached his limit on surprises for the day. Even liked being the one to put that look on his face. It felt like he was winning whatever game they were playing—like he was slowly but surely breaking down the image Isak had of him and rebuilding it into something better. 

“Okay?” Isak said, but it once again sounded like a question. 

Even smiled brightly. “Okay.” 

* 

Isak did, in fact, show up to the party, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because he was wearing jeans so tight they looked like they were painted on and it was a joy, truly, to watch him wander around the apartment simply from an aesthetic perspective. Even wanted to drag him to his bedroom, to peel those jeans off his legs and touch the bare skin underneath. Isak was a wonder to look at on a good day, but he was something else altogether tonight, seeming more confident than Even had ever seen him, charming literally everyone he talked to with only a few chose words and the batting of his eyelashes. 

It was a curse because he was using that charm to flirt with someone who most definitely was not Even. The boy he was talking to was tall, skinny, and blonde—like Even—but Isak was taller still. He had him backed into a corner, whispering what Even imagined were sweet nothings into his ear, and the guy looked like he was in ecstasy. His eyes were half closed and he had a hand rucked under Isak's shirt, wandering across his skin. There was a familiarity there that Even didn't like and his blood boiled. After a good ten minutes of staring, he forced himself to turn away and pushed through the crowd of people surrounding him, ignoring the greetings of his friends as he walked, and headed towards the kitchen instead where he grabbed another beer, downing half of it in only a few gulps. 

"Whoa, slow down there," Jonas laughed, squeezing past a group of people in the doorway to join him. Even forced down his disappointment and faked a smile. 

"Sorry. Just thirsty, I guess." 

Jonas laughed as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer of his own. "Maybe a little bit too thirsty?" he asked, jerking his head towards the living room where Even still had a clear view of Isak and his ridiculously refined flirting skills. He had been naive enough to think that maybe their arguments had been a type of flirting for Isak, but obviously he had been wrong. The skill Isak was exhibiting tonight was on another level entirely and if Even wasn't so jealous, he might actually be impressed. 

"You could go talk to him, you know?" Jonas pointed out. 

Even scoffed. "You want me to interrupt _that_?" he said, gesturing across the room to where Isak's lips were hovering so close to the other guy's that it was practically pornographic. "That'll just make him hate me more." 

Jonas watched Isak for a few more seconds and then shrugged, seeming to come to some sort of decision. He pushed himself off of the counter he'd been leaning against and took another long sip of beer before clapping Even on the shoulder. "Never say I didn't do anything for you," he said and then drifted back into the living room where he headed straight for Isak. 

Even knew from experience that if he had pulled Mikael away from a sure thing to talk to him—even if it _was_ important—he would get yelled at for it later. Isak, however, didn't seem perturbed by the interruption, just stepped away from the guy at Jonas's behest and leaned in close so that he could whisper something in his ear. Even had no clue what Jonas was saying to him, but at one point he gestured at something over his shoulder and when Isak looked in that direction, his face fell. 

Although there was no way Even could possibly hear him over the din of the crowd, he could read lips well enough to see Isak's frustrated "fuck" and Jonas's corresponding solemn nod. Jonas then pointed Isak towards the back of their apartment where the bedrooms were and Isak went without question, leaving behind the guy he had been close to fucking against the wall like he had never had any interest in him in the first place. 

Even watched as Isak disappeared around the corner and when he looked back to Jonas, wondering what the fuck his plan was, he just gestured for Even to follow him. Ever curious, Even did as he was told. 

He checked Jonas's bedroom first because that seemed the most logical place for Isak to go, but he was not there. He also wasn't in the bathroom and Even knew that he wouldn't go into his room, so unless he had crawled out a window, that only left the storage closet at the end of the hall. It was a junk closet more than anything, holding all of their thick winter jackets, a vacuum, and not much else. He pulled the door open warily and, sure enough, there was Isak, squinting up at him as the bright lights from the hall struck his eyes, which had gotten used to the dark. 

"Are you...hiding in here?" Even asked, thoroughly confused, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. 

Isak rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at the interruption, and stuck his head out of the closet to look over Even's shoulder. "Just get in here," he hissed. "Hurry!" Startled by the urgency in his voice, Even stepped into the closet, realizing belatedly just how small it was. There was barely enough room for Isak alone and there definitely wasn't room for the two of them together. Isak, however, seemed too distracted to think about how awkward it was going to be to have Even's body pressed against his because he just grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in closer. Against his better judgment, Even let him. "Now shut the door." 

With the door shut, the noise from the party became muffled until the loudest sounds in the quiet room were Isak's deep breathing and his own thundering heartbeat. They were pressed together, chest to chest, their legs tangled beneath them, and Even's senses went haywire, drinking Isak in. Isak wasn't paying him much attention—didn't seem to have even noticed how close they were standing. He just stood there, watching the door, as if he were waiting for death itself. 

There wasn't any light, so Even couldn't see more than an outline of him, but he could feel Isak's hand resting casually on his waist, holding them together so they wouldn't fall, and he could smell the thick scent of his cologne permeating the air. It was intoxicating. It was _too much_. 

Even reached behind him to try to flick the light switch on, hoping that would alleviate some of the tension between them, but before he could, Isak stopped him. 

"No light," he snapped, turning to face Even for the first time. "He might see." 

"Who might see?" Even whispered, trying to ignore how Isak's lips were much too close to his own. He would barely have to move for them to be kissing. Isak tried to step backwards out of his grasp, but there was nowhere for him to move. He finally seemed to have realized his mistake. 

"Uh," he said, fumbling for an answer. "It's, uh, just my stupid ex-boyfriend." He paused, like he was going to leave it at that, but then seemed to think better of it and continued with what sounded to be a very well-rehearsed rant. "I can't get away from him. He always finds me at these parties and then we end up going home together—which is fine because he gives a damn good blowjob, but then he gets clingy and thinks we're dating again and it's a whole vicious cycle. Jonas is getting rid of him for me." 

"So you're hiding in a closet?" Even laughed. 

Isak huffed out his displeasure and Even could feel his breath against his neck. It felt strangely intimate. "Stop judging me," he grumbled. "You're the one who followed me in here. You can just leave." 

But Even didn't want to leave. "What kind of friend would I be if I left you alone during such a trying time?" 

Although he couldn't see it, Even would have bet money that Isak's eyes rolled. "You are _not_ my friend," Isak said with utmost confidence. 

"I brought you cake though," Even pointed out. "That was a friendly thing to do." 

"That was a serial killer-ish thing to do," Isak corrected. "Like you're fattening me up to eat me or something." There was a joke in there somewhere about the parts of Isak Even would actually _want_ to eat, but he bit his tongue. No flirting. 

It ended up not mattering, however, because his body did the flirting for him. 

Isak was the type of person that didn’t like to be idle. Even knew that because he spent an inordinate amount of time cataloging his every movement. When Isak and Jonas watched movies in the apartment, he would move from the couch to the floor and then back to the couch, just to give himself something to do. During lectures, he would bounce his foot in time to the professor’s words, chew on the end of his pen, drum his fingers against the desk. He liked to move and, despite the fact that there was literally no room in their small closet, Isak was moving. Even didn’t even think he had a purpose to it, he was just rocking back and forth, unknowingly brushing against Even’s crotch with every tiny movement as he tried to entertain his mind with _something_ , no matter how insignificant. 

Even held his breath, hoping Isak would stop on his own accord, but he never did, and slowly but surely Even started to harden in his pants. Just fucking great. This was really going to help with the whole friendship thing. Not knowing what else to do, Even reached out and grabbed Isak’s shoulders, forcing him to stay still. Isak startled at the touch, like he hadn’t even realized he was moving, and then shook his head in frustration. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

“I just need you to be still,” Even hissed through gritted teeth. 

“I already fucking told you, you can just leave,” Isak snapped back. “This is my fucking closet.” 

“This is not your closet,” Even argued. “This is _my_ closet. Last time I checked, you don’t pay rent here. Do you want to _start_ paying rent for the closet? Because then yeah, sure, it can be your fucking closet.” 

“God, you’re insufferable,” Isak continued, still oblivious to Even’s little problem, which was getting harder by the second. Apparently Isak yelling at him was a turn-on. Who knew? (Even. Even knew.) “All I’m asking for is a little empathy. I’m fully aware that hiding in a fucking coat closet is ridiculously pathetic. I don’t need you to tell me that.” 

Even rolled his eyes, Isak’s voice grating on his already-frayed nerves, and eventually decided that his lost dignity was worth the price of Isak’s silence. He thrust his hips forward as Isak continued rambling, pressing his boner against his thigh, and the boy immediately stopped talking. 

“ _That_ is why I wanted you to be still,” Even offered. He still couldn’t see Isak’s face, but the boy stood frozen in front of him. Even wished he could see the blush that he knew was there—he wanted to raise his hands and feel the blood burn in Isak’s cheeks—but he settled for backing up the few inches that the closet would allow, hoping to convince Isak he wasn’t some sort of predator. 

The two of them were quiet for a long time, both of their breaths ragged. Eventually, it was Isak who spoke. “Are you serious?” he said, clearly unamused. “You’re so fucking horny that literally anyone will do?” 

While Even _was_ embarrassed and seriously considering just walking out of the apartment altogether, never to return, he was also angry. “I mean, I’m in a very small, very dark closet with a beautiful boy. Excuse me for getting a bit turned on by it.” 

Isak waited a beat and then—“What?” 

“What?” Even repeated, not understanding the question, but before Isak could answer, the closet door was wrenched open, spilling light into the room and causing him to blink until his eyes adjusted. 

“What the fuck are you two doing in the closet?” Jonas asked, having to yell a bit over the music that was still blaring from the living room. When Even looked over at him, he found that Jonas was looking at his waist where Isak’s hand was still resting. He had gotten so used to it that he had completely forgotten it was there. Neither Even nor Isak had an answer for him, so Jonas continued with a sigh. “I got rid of your stalker. You’re welcome.” 

“Thank fuck,” Isak said, immediately stepping over Even’s long limbs to extricate himself from the closet. It wasn’t the most graceful escape Even had ever seen—he tripped over the vacuum cleaner on his way out and if Jonas hadn’t been there to catch him, he would have fallen flat on his face. That time, Even did get to watch the blush paint his skin, but after floundering with his embarrassment for only a second, Isak seemed to decide that facing it head-on wasn’t worth it and took off down the hall instead, returning to the party and, most likely, the boy he had been flirting with earlier. 

Even watched him go, feeling like a boat lost at sea without Isak there to tether him to shore, but before he could wallow too much, Jonas cleared his throat. He was smirking when Even looked at him, clearly pleased with himself, and Even couldn’t deny that he had done good work. He let his worries wash away and smiled, thankful for the proximity, no matter how brief. 

That night, he laid in bed and sketched the planes of a body he could not touch, hoping to memorize the joy he had found in them so that it could bring him comfort when he inevitably got his heart broken. 


	3. Isak

Isak was really fucking confused and he had been for days. Before, he had thought that Even was nothing more than a spoiled, art school wannabe who had never been told no in his life. Now, he was a puzzle, an enigma, and Isak hated that he was intrigued by it. There had been no blatant flirting for days, no intruding on his and Jonas’s friend dates. Even had been—for lack of a better word—pleasant. It left Isak feeling off-kilter, floundering to find his footing in a landscape that was changing day by day. 

He just couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Even was acting so different. It had definitely started that morning in the kitchen when Isak had told him that there was nothing romantic going on between him and Jonas, but why the fuck would that have any bearing on Even’s life at all? Unless…Was Even in love with _Jonas_? That would be one hell of a fucking plot twist. Isak supposed it was possible—he _had_ looked disproportionately angry when he thought Jonas had slept with Isak—but Even never flirted with Jonas, never tried to keep him away from anyone except Isak. The more likely answer was that Even just hated Isak _so much_ that he didn’t want him weaseling his way further into Jonas’s life and when he realized that wasn’t going to happen, he backed off. 

Isak's confusion, however, didn’t erase how insanely attractive Even was or how good it had felt to have his body pressed against his in that dark closet. And although he knew he shouldn’t, it didn’t stop him from touching himself to that memory, even days later. 

It was late and he was alone in his bedroom, growing more and more restless as each minute ticked by, thinking only of the hours of sleep he was missing out on. He had been tossing and turning for half the night already and he was willing to do _anything_ for just a few blissful moments of quiet dreaming. He had found that orgasms worked better than pretty much anything else to put him to sleep—except for alcohol, but he knew better than to become dependent on that. 

He cupped himself through his boxers, taking pleasure in the way he was hardening at only the slightest touch. It had been weeks since he had had a proper fuck. He was getting a bit desperate. He thought about opening some porn on his phone, but he quickly decided that he didn’t need it. For better or worse, the images from that night were seared into his brain and he couldn’t get them out. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel Even’s dick hard against him and he let his imagination run wild, wondering what Even would have done if Isak had reached out and _touched._ Would he have pushed him away or pulled him closer? Would he have allowed him to unzip his pants and take him in hand? Allowed him to stroke, to tease, to taunt like Even liked to do to him? 

Isak groaned his frustration at the memories, but gave in to their pull, pushing his boxers far enough down his legs so that he could kick them off, leaving his bottom half exposed to the air. The hair on his arms stood up as a chill passed over him. 

He ran his thumb across the head of his cock, collecting a drop of pre-come that had beaded there, and spread it down his length for lubrication. Then he began stroking himself more quickly than he usually would, wanting to get it over with fast if it was Even he was going to be thinking about. 

He brought himself nearly to the brink, Even’s blue eyes dancing in front of him, but slowed his movements before he could come, not wanting to finish until he was thinking about someone, _anyone_ else. So instead he tried to imagine the man that he had _almost_ had that night—Alex or Erik or Who-the-Fuck-Cared, really—but anytime he was able to grasp onto an image of him, to remember the way it had felt to nuzzle into his stubbled neck and have his hand stroke his hips beneath his shirt, Isak could only hold onto the memory for a few seconds before it slipped through his fingers like water. Then, completely unbidden, Alex or Erik or Who-the-Fuck-Ever would grow taller. Their hair would lighten, their shoulders broaden, and then Isak would be standing in that same closet once more. The lights would be out, Even’s breath would be ghosting against his lips, and this time it was Isak that couldn’t control his arousal. 

His hand quickened its pace once more as he imagined things going further than they had that night. He imagined Even’s lips on his neck, licking and sucking, burning Isak’s skin like fire. He imagined Even touching him like he was touching himself now, mumbling snarky encouragements into his ear. _You like that? I told you I could make you feel good._ He imagined Even ridding himself of his own pants, backing Isak up against the wall behind him, and taking him right there, their bodies sticky with sweat as they moved against each other, their thick breath making it hard to draw air in the cramped closet. He imagined that it would be rough at first, with plenty of scratching and biting, but as they each approached their climax, it would get softer. Their harsh words would turn into whispers, their hard touches into caresses. He imagined the words that Even might say as he coaxed his orgasm out of him. _Be a good boy and come for me, Isak. Please._

Isak’s balls drew up and thick cords of come spilled onto his stomach as he grunted his pleasure into the thankfully empty apartment. He stroked himself through the worst of it and then relaxed back against his pillows, already feeling more sated than he had in days. His breath was coming in rapid pants, but he was too tired to be ashamed. That would come in the morning. It was just one more thing he had to thank Even for: he couldn’t even masturbate in peace anymore. 

He cleaned himself up the best that he could with the toilet paper he had sitting on his bedside table and then rolled over to finally get some much-needed sleep. 

* 

By the next morning, Isak's fixation with Even had become a full-blown obsession. He was a mystery that Isak just couldn't solve and he needed answers like he needed air. What was the deal with the flirting? Was any of it real or was it really just some sort of game to him? And if it was real, why had it suddenly stopped? Jonas was typically a pretty good judge of character, so what did he see in Even that Isak couldn't see himself? What had he missed, blinded by his anger? 

He walked straight to Jonas’s apartment after his last class of the day, not even bothering to ask him if it was okay to stop by. He didn’t want to run the risk of him saying no. That was his first mistake. His second was assuming that Even would be at work since he usually was on Mondays. 

The door to the apartment was locked—which should have been a clue, honestly. Jonas was notoriously bad at remembering to lock it. Isak knocked instead, bouncing from foot to foot to try to keep himself warm as the sun began to disappear over the horizon. He stilled when the door clicked open and Even stood waiting on the other side. Simultaneously, their faces fell. Well, shit. 

“I, um, came to see Jonas,” Isak said, clearing his throat to trying to dislodge the nervousness. 

Even’s eyes widened, like this news somehow surprised him, but he stepped back anyway, allowing Isak to slip into the apartment, out of the cold. It was only as the door shut behind him that Even spoke. “He’s not here,” he said and he sounded legitimately regretful. “He told me he’s staying with Eva tonight. I think he’s finally making some progress there.” Fuck. Isak’s back was to Even, so he closed his eyes in frustration. Could he not have told him that when he was _outside_? It felt rude to walk out now. 

“Oh,” Isak said, turning back around. Even was looking at him sheepishly, his shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to make himself smaller. Like Isak, he seemed nervous, and it was such a foreign look on him that Isak didn’t know what to make of it. He waited for Even to say something, but he just stared back at him, a blush rising to his cheeks like Isak had caught him masturbating instead of watching reruns of _Seinfeld,_ which is what he was actually doing. “I should probably go…” He let his voice trail off, wondering if Even would stop him and, to his surprise, he actually did. 

“You could stay,” he offered with a shrug. “I have a pizza in the oven. And…well.” He began to fish something out of his pocketand soon brandished a beautifully rolled joint right in front of Isak’s face. Even smiled. “If you want.” 

Isak looked from the joint up to Even and then back to the joint. Fuck. He _did_ want. With all of the confusion swarming through his mind, he craved the temporary reprieve that getting high would allow him. He chose not to think about the fact that the person who was confusing him was also the one he would be smoking with. 

Sensing a victory, Even’s smile widened and he jerked his head towards the living room, silently asking Isak to follow him. Leaving his pride at the door, Isak did as instructed. 

They sat on the couch, Even on one end and Isak far, far away on the other. It took Even three tries to get his lighter to catch and Isak silently judged him the whole time until the joint was lit and Even took the first hit, inhaling deeply and then exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. Isak was mesmerized by the sight of Even’s blue eyes hidden behind a dense cloud of fog and he tore his gaze away, not wanting to think on what that made him feel. 

When Even was done, he offered Isak the joint and Isak quickly realized that sitting a good three feet apart wasn’t very conducive to sharing. Reluctantly he scooted forward, pulling his legs onto the couch so that he could sit crossed legged facing Even. He took the joint from him, ignoring the spark that shot down his arm as their fingers touched, and raised it to his mouth, taking a long, slow drag that brought Even’s eyes straight to his lips. He kept staring long after the smoke faded, like he didn’t have a choice—like he was just as hypnotized by Isak as Isak was by him. 

While Even’s constant flirting had grated on Isak’s nerves to no end, this felt different. It felt like a compulsion rather than a taunt. Like Even just couldn’t help it. Isak lowered his gaze and smirked to himself as he took another hit and returned to joint. 

They sat there passing the joint back and forth for several long minutes during which neither of them said a word. There was so much baggage between them and Isak was scared to speak in fear of spilling it all. He had questions, sure, but he also had the guilt of jerking off to the memory of Even’s touch three times in just as many days. It was better to stay silent and just listen to the laugh track on the TV. 

It was Even that spoke first. “So…” he said, dragging the word out. “Good talk.” Immediately, like it was a knee-jerk reaction, Isak rolled his eyes. Fuck. Two points. Even chuckled next to him, but kept talking, fishing for something that they might have in common. 

“Jonas said you like 90’s hip hop?” he asked, hopeful. 

Isak smirked. “You and Jonas talk about me?” 

Even realized his mistake and blushed. Isak thought it unnecessary to tell him that he and Jonas did the same about him—that that was precisely the reason Isak was currently in his apartment at all. Let him think he was the only one affected. That worked in Isak’s favor. 

“I mean,” Even said, fumbling for words, but he composed himself quickly. “Since you refuse to acknowledge that we’re friends, I had to do a little research on my own.” 

“Oh my god,” Isak laughed and he was surprised to find that his amusement was genuine. “Will you stop with that? We are _not_ friends!” 

Even scrunched his forehead doubtfully. “Methinks thee doth protest too much. We just smoked a whole joint together—that’s a bonding experience, Isak. Face it. We’re friends.” 

“You are literally the most insufferable person I have ever met in my life,” Isak countered. “You’ve spent the past two months trying to tear me and my best friend apart and this sudden personality transplant doesn’t erase that.” 

Even shrugged. “That was a bit of a miscommunication.” Isak scoffed, so Even barreled on, determined to make his point. “I’m not even the one who started this!” he cried. “I was perfectly nice to you and then _you’re_ the one who had a personality transplant. Why the fuck do you hate me so much?” 

Isak groaned. “Stop being such a baby. We’re not actually archenemies, you know?” 

“No,” Even snapped. “I _don’t_ know because you never told me. For all I know, you’re plotting my murder in your head right now.” He was silent for a minute, waiting on Isak to answer his question, but Isak didn’t know what to say. Guilt was burning a hole in his stomach and he didn’t want to admit how childish he had been to Even—how childish he was still being. 

He didn’t buy into Even’s whole offer of friendship quite yet, but they _were_ on the cusp of something deeper than yelling back and forth over Jonas’s head. He didn’t want to drag them back into that dark circle of hell. “It really was just the Jonas thing,” Even mused after a while. Isak couldn’t stop the blush that rose to his cheeks. Before he could think of anything to defend himself with, however, the oven timer went off, summoning Even to the kitchen. He stood, but then froze, staring down at Isak until he dared to look back. 

“I already have a best friend, Isak,” he said. Isak was surprised to find that there was not even a trace of malice in his voice. “You can keep yours.” 

* 

Somehow they ended up in Even’s bedroom—on Even’s bed—surrounded by empty, grease-stained paper plates and used napkins. If Isak’s head wasn’t so clouded, he might have realized that being alone in a bedroom with Even probably wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but that was the joy of getting high. He was blissfully unaware. 

They were sitting close—much closer than they had been sitting on the couch—but it wasn’t awkward like Isak had imagined it would be then. The weed was making him brave, so as he sat facing Even, their knees now touching as they sat crossed legged in front of each other, Isak looked him straight in the eyes and dared him to look away. Even never did. 

“I still don’t fucking understand chemistry,” Even said after a little while, taking Isak by surprise. “I was faking it a little bit the other day when I asked for your help, but now I really am lost. I don’t understand how you can like it so much.” Isak wasn’t sure how Even knew that he _did_ like it so much, but he chose not to ask. He’d taunted him enough for one night and he was too loose-limbed to find it as stalker-ish as he might have while sober. 

Although Even hadn’t asked a question, Isak thought about his answer anyway, letting his high guide him towards enlightenment. Eventually, he shrugged. “I like how it can give you an explanation for everything. It never leaves you guessing. You always just _know_ and if you don’t know, then you can do an experiment and figure it out. So many of life’s questions have simple, chemical answers: Why do we fall in love? Why do we fall _out_ of love? Why is the sky blue? Why do we even exist?” 

Isak had gotten animated as he spoke, his enthusiasm for the topic lighting him up from the inside out, but he soon deflated when he remembered the questions science could not answer: Why did his dad leave him? Why wasn’t he ever good enough? He was just about to start wallowing in the miseries of his childhood when Even spoke again, his voice thick with barely contained emotion. 

“Could it tell me why I’m so insanely attracted to you?” 

Isak snapped his gaze back to Even, expecting a flirtatious smirk, but Even’s usual bravado had disappeared. His words didn’t even sound flirtatious, they sounded…vulnerable, almost. Isak swallowed hard, determined to brush it off, to convince himself that it meant nothing. “Pheromones, probably,” he said just to fill the silence. 

Even didn’t laugh—didn’t make a joke about how he hadn’t been serious. He just stared at Isak with an intensity he wasn’t used to, his blue eyes piercing even in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere between them was charged, like the air before a storm, when you knew that you were just waiting for the inevitable. Isak should have pulled away, but as Even leaned closer to him, his lips parted in welcome, Isak found that he didn’t want to. His dick had been half-hard against his thigh for close to a half hour now—an unfortunate side effect of the weed—and the thought of release was enough to keep him rooted in place. 

If he was honest, he didn’t think Even would actually go through with it, but the next thing he knew, Even was breathing against his lips, his greasy fingers coming up to cup his cheek, and then, impossibly, their lips met in a chaste kiss that, despite it’s softness, left Isak feeling like he had been punched in the gut. 

He wasn’t quite sure what they were doing so he didn’t dare touch, just tangled his fingers into the sheets next to him, channeling everything he was feeling into the tight grip of his hands. Before he could relax into the kiss and truly enjoy it, Even was already pulling away. 

Isak kept his eyes closed for several long seconds, wondering if it had all been a dream, but then slowly blinked them open, knowing he had to face reality. In front of him, Even had gone pale and he was watching Isak with wide eyes, clearly surprised by his own actions. Isak opened his mouth—to say what, he had no idea—but before he could say anything at all, Even was climbing off of the bed, almost tripping when his long limbs got tangled in the blankets. 

“Shit,” Even mumbled, running his fingers though his hair as he searched the ground for something. He found his shoes two seconds later and began to slip them on. Isak furrowed his brow in confusion. “I, uh—fuck. I have to go.” Without looking back once, he practically ran from the bedroom and before Isak had even gathered the wits to stand, he heard the front door opening and then slamming shut again as Even made his getaway. From his own apartment. 

Isak sat there for a long time, breathing in the smell of Even’s aftershave mixed with the remnants of their joint, wondering what the hell had just happened. He had come to this apartment for answers and he would leave with only more questions. Not knowing what else to do, he followed Even out into the night and began the short trek to the tram stop, the warm heat of Even’s mouth still imprinted against his lips. 

* 

Isak skipped his chemistry lecture on Tuesday and invited Jonas out for lunch instead. He pretended it was because he was too overwhelmed with school work to be able to focus, but he actually just couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in the same room with Even after what had happened between them the night before. The more he dwelled on it, the more nauseated it made him. He had been willing to brush it off as a side effect of the weed at first, but now, sober, he couldn’t help but feel like he was being made fun of. He just didn’t know why. 

All of the questions he’d had the day before still danced in his head and now there were more of them. Why had Even kissed him? Why had he run away? Isak didn’t even know where to start, but he knew Jonas would be willing to listen—knew that he might even have answers. 

They grabbed lunch from a food truck at the center of campus and then sat together on a bench to eat. Jonas immediately dived into an account of his night with Eva, sparing no details, despite how much Isak wished he would. It was sweet, though, he had to admit, that they’d found their way back to each other after all the time apart. 

He listened politely as Jonas spoke, nodding along to his words, humming in interest when the boy stopped for breath. He wasn’t, however, paying very close attention. Instead, he was scripting a conversation in his head—carefully trying to figure out how to change the topic from Eva to Even. In the end, Jonas did it for him. 

“—and then I got home this morning and Even was being so fucking weird. He’s usually the chillest dude ever, but he was acting all skittish. It was like he was waiting for me to yell at him or something. I thought for a minute he might be hiding some chick in his room, but I never saw anyone leave. I have no clue what that was about.” He paused to take a bite of his food and Isak jumped at the opportunity, sensing that this might be the only opening he would get. 

“I stopped by your apartment last night,” he said. 

Jonas frowned and looked over at him, probably wondering what in the world that had to do with his Even rant. He took another bite. “Was Even there?” 

Isak nodded. “He let me in before he told me you were gone, so I stayed for a little while. Smoked some weed.” 

Jonas smirked. “Boy does have some good weed.” 

“Yeah,” Isak agreed. He thought about leaving it at that, knowing Jonas would be more than happy to keep talking about Eva, but the curiosity ate at him like an itch he just couldn’t scratch. He needed to find some relief. “He also kissed me.” 

Jonas, who had just taken a bite of his hamburger, promptly began choking. Isak winced, patting him on the back until the racking coughs passed. 

“Wait, hold up,” Jonas forced out. “He did _what_ now?” 

“He kissed me,” Isak repeated with a shrug, trying to brush it off like it was nothing. “I mean, I was high as fuck, so it’s not like I tried to stop him, but it’s some sort of game to him, you know? I just can’t figure out what it is. A dare, maybe? Or a bet?” 

“A bet?” Jonas repeated, deadpan. “You think Even kissed you for a bet?” 

Isak shrugged. “What am I supposed to think? One minute he hates me, the next he’s being eerily nice. It’s creepy. And after he kissed me, he completely took off and just left me there. Who even does that? _I’m_ supposed to do that, not him!” 

Jonas stared at him hard for several seconds, processing the information, and then heaved a sigh, burying his face in his hands. “God, you are both idiots,” he groaned before sitting back up. “Look, I’m not getting involved in this, but Even’s not a vindictive person, okay? If he kissed you, he did it because he wanted to.” 

“Then why the fuck did he run away?” Isak cried in exasperation, ignoring the pain in his chest that made it feel like there was an open wound over his heart. He hadn’t let himself dwell on the aftermath—more concerned with the kiss itself—but now that he did, he was surprised at how much it _hurt_. It felt like, after everything, he was still only a regret. It was a lesson his father had taught him well. 

Jonas must have sensed the change in Isak’s mood because he reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “Isak,” he said softly. “He ran because he’s a fucking coward—it had nothing to do with you.” He paused to let that sink in and then continued. “Fuck. I really am going to have to yell at him when I get home.” 

Isak rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 

They finished the rest of their meal in silence, lost in their own thoughts, but Isak couldn’t deny that he was starting to feel a little bit better. 

“Shit,” Jonas said with a disparaging laugh a few minutes later. Isak looked over at him, surprised by the outburst. “You know what I just realized?” 

“What?” 

“If you and Even start fucking, _I’m_ going to have to hear it. Our walls are so fucking thin and, like, it’s fine when it’s some random person I don’t know, but if it was you?” His whole body cringed at the thought. 

“Oh my god,” Isak groaned, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “Who said anything about fucking?” 

Jonas, however, wasn’t listening. “I absolutely do not want to know what you sound like in bed. Shit, I’m going to have to get some of those noise-cancelling headphones or I’m going to be scarred for life—and _you’re_ going to pay for them.” 

“Jonas,” Isak snapped, reaching out to grab Jonas’s chin and force him to look his way. “He literally ran away just from kissing me. I think sex is off the table.” 

Jonas rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. “If you truly believe that, then you’re too stupid to help.” 

* 

Although his heart was beating out a painful rhythm against his chest, Isak decided to follow Jonas back to his apartment after lunch. His chemistry lecture still wasn’t over, so with any luck, he’d be able to tuck himself away in Jonas’s room and avoid seeing Even altogether. 

This is, of course, not what happened. 

As soon as they reached the front door, Isak could hear raised voices coming from the other side. Jonas hastily pulled his keys out of his pocket and let the two of them in, but once as the door clicked open, the yelling abruptly stopped. 

Even and Mikael were both sitting on the couch with only a cushion between them and although they didn’t look mad at _each other_ , they _did_ look mad. Even’s face was red, like he had been yelling for a while, both his cheeks and his neck flushed. He turned to look at Jonas and, upon seeing Isak there as well, quickly looked away, his blush darkening. 

“What’s going on here?” Jonas asked, drawing out the question as he shut the door behind them. Isak startled slightly at the sound of it slamming shut. 

Mikael looked to Even, like he was expecting him to answer, but Even just dropped his chin against his chest and remained silent. “It’s nothing,” Mikael shrugged after a second. “Even’s just being a fucking idiot.” 

Even looked up again after a few seconds, allowing his gaze to trail up Isak’s entire body until they were finally staring eye-to-eye. “Hi,” he greeted shyly and although Isak wanted to yell at how insanely frustrating the past 24 hours of his life had been, he swallowed that frustration down. 

“Hi,” he returned, but he was unable to keep the bite out of his voice. Even winced. 

“Okay,” Jonas intervened, looking between the two of them. “Well, we’re going to go to my room now. You two have fun...yelling or whatever.” 

“Oh, wait, wait, wait,” Mikael said, suddenly enthusiastic once more. “Have you asked him yet?” His question was directed at Jonas, but Isak had a sneaking suspicion that they were talking about him. 

“Fuck,” Jonas hissed, “I totally forgot.” Then, just as Isak had expected, he turned to him. “Do you want to help me and Mikael with a project for his photography class on Saturday?” 

Isak waited for the other shoe to drop, but when Jonas just waited expectantly for him to answer, he shrugged. “Uh, sure.” 

Even snorted. “Seriously? _That’s_ how you’re going to explain it to him?” He glanced up at Isak, his eyes looking far less dull than they had only seconds before, and for the first time, Isak actually felt like he was on his side. 

“Wait, what am I doing?” he asked. Mikael opened his mouth to give what was probably a very judicious answer, but Even, blunt as ever, beat him to it. 

“He wants you to model for him.” 

Appalled, Isak’s mouth fell open. “Uh, no. I’m not doing that.” He then whipped around to face Jonas. “You’re modeling for him?” 

Jonas shrugged. “He needs models. This project’s worth like 15% of his final grade.” 

“It seriously is,” Mikael said, standing from his spot on the couch like he might be able to intimidate Isak into submission that way. “We were each assigned a classic piece of literature and we have to create a photo set that captures the aesthetic of the original. I got _Romeo and Juliet_.” He paused and then let the other shoe fall. “I need a Romeo.” 

“Oh, hell no,” Isak cried. “Can’t I just be one of the guys in the background?” 

“You could,” Mikael shrugged, “but you’re the only person I know that looks like, well, that,” he said, gesturing to Isak’s face. Isak had no idea what he was referring to, but it sounded like a compliment. 

“What about him?” he asked, pointing to Even who preened under the attention. Belatedly, Isak realized what he had just implied, but he was too stubborn to take it back now. 

“He’s a giraffe!” Mikael argued. “The girl I’ve got playing Juliet is like half his size. Plus, I need his help on the production side of things. Isak, please. I will owe you forever.” When his platitudes didn’t seem to be working, he switched tactics. “Okay, what about free weed for a month? I know a guy. I can hook you up.” 

Honestly, Isak would have crumbled under the weight of a few more pleases even without the bribe—he wasn’t good at saying no—but he had to admit that the bribe helped sweeten the deal a bit. “Fine,” he said after mulling it over. “But no tights.” 

Mikael smiled brightly. “No tights,” he confirmed. “Thank you so much. I’ll email you with the details.” 

Isak nodded and then, before he could be bombarded with any more outlandish requests, he pushed past Jonas and made his way to the back of the apartment, determinedly not looking at the infamous sex closet as he ducked into Jonas’s room, grateful to finally be alone. 

* 

They stayed in Jonas’s room for hours playing video games, but eventually Jonas started to doze and Isak reluctantly admitted that it was probably time to go. He shut the console off, whispered goodbye to a sleeping Jonas, and then left the room. 

The lights were off in the rest of the apartment and for a second Isak thought he might even escape without running into Even first, but when he walked into the living room, he found the TV on, painting the room in multicolored lights. Even was curled up on the sofa, his head pillowed on the armrest, and Isak just stood there watching him for several seconds. It reminded him of that morning he had walked out of Jonas’s room—the morning everything had changed—and saw him eating cereal on the couch. It was so odd to see him like this, just living, without any pomp or circumstance. It always felt a bit like Even was an actor, directing life around him, but here he was just Even. 

Isak swallowed hard and stepped further into the room, plodding across the hardwood floors as loudly as he could without making it obvious what he was doing. It wasn’t that he _wanted_ Even’s attention, per se, but he knew he was going to get it regardless and this way it was on his own terms. Sure enough, Even sat at the sound and looked over the back of the couch at Isak. 

His hair was disarrayed and there was an imprint on his cheek from where he had been laying, but somehow, it only served to make him more handsome. Mikael couldn’t have been more wrong: if anyone was Romeo, it was Even. 

“Hi,” Even breathed, like he was amazed that Isak was standing in front of him despite the fact that he had to know he was still in the apartment. 

“Hi,” Isak agreed. He stopped halfway towards the door, feeling that it would be rude to just keep walking. Even, however, didn’t seem to be in any hurry to say more. He just stared at Isak, his face a mixture of awe and bashfulness. 

“Sorry about Mikael,” he finally said. “I told him not to bother you with that, but he does what he wants. I can get you out of it if you’re having second thoughts.” 

“It’s fine,” Isak shrugged. “Mikael’s nice. I don’t mind helping.” 

Even laughed and it lightened the mood just a bit. “You say that now, but you’ve never been on set with him before. He’s a menace. You’ll hate him by the end of it, I promise.” 

It would have been easy to make his escape then, after an amicable goodbye, but Isak found that he wasn’t quite ready to leave. Surprising even himself, he walked around to the front of the couch and sat on the cushion right next to Even, who had his legs pulled up beneath him. 

Even’s eyes widened, like Isak joining him was the last thing he had expected, and Isak just let him stare as he turned towards the TV instead. Even was watching _Friends_ this time, but he had the volume turned off and the captions turned on. Jonas had hit the jackpot on random roommates. Eskild would never have been that considerate. 

“What’re you still doing awake?” Isak asked after a minute. It was after midnight and while that wasn’t _late_ late, it _was_ only Tuesday. They both had early classes in the morning. 

“Honestly?” Even asked and the vulnerability in his voice drew Isak’s eyes away from the TV. “I was waiting on you.” It’s what Isak had been expecting, but he hadn’t actually thought Even would have the guts to say it. Apparently he was braver than Jonas gave him credit for. “I wanted to apologize,” he continued, his voice low. Isak forced himself to retain eye contact—to give no hint as to how fast his heart was beating. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry.” 

And there it was: the regret. Isak swallowed hard and looked down at his lap, biting back the disappointment, all the while cursing himself for being disappointed in the first place. He hadn’t _wanted_ Even to kiss him. It shouldn’t bother him that Even hadn’t wanted the same thing. 

“Hey,” Even said almost immediately, leaning forward until his knees were spilling into Isak’s lap. The contact surprised Isak enough to look up and he found Even’s concerned eyes watching him carefully. “I shouldn’t have kissed you because we were both high and I had no idea if that was even something you wanted. That was something I _took_ for myself and it wasn’t right. And running away afterwards certainly wasn’t cool either.” He paused long enough to scan Isak’s face and he must have noticed that his frown, at least, had disappeared because he smiled. “Are you mad at me?” 

Isak sighed heavily, trying not to project the honest answer, which was yes. “I just don’t understand shit,” he admitted. “You’re playing me hot and cold. First you’re flirting, then you’re not. You’re kissing me, then you’re running away. I don’t even know if I want to be _friends_ with you, Even. I can’t think further than that right now.” 

Even nodded slowly. “Listen, can we just start over? I understand why we didn’t get along at first—I was forcing myself between you and Jonas and that wasn’t cool—but I’m done with that now and, all jokes aside, I really _do_ want to be your friend. Please?” 

Ever so slowly, Isak’s lip lifted into a teasing smirk. He then released a playful sigh, like what Even was asking of him was some great burden. “I’ll think about it,” he said, leaning over Even to grab the remote control off of the armrest. He turned the volume back on and settled deeper into the couch cushion, determined to enjoy the show. Even watched him in stunned fascination, but if his answering smile was anything to go by, he knew that Isak was lying through his teeth. There was nothing to think about. Isak was already sold. 


	4. Even

When Even walked into his chemistry lecture on Thursday, he was nervous. His heart was stuttering out a broken rhythm against his chest, his hands were shaking from within the depths of his pockets, and he had absolutely no idea why. He suspected that it might have something to do with Isak, but he refused to admit that to himself. They were friends now. _Just friends_. Friends didn’t get nervous around each other. Friends were completely chill. Of course, friends probably also didn’t picture each other naked, but Even had come to the conclusion that that was something he just couldn’t help. It was Isak’s fault, really. He was just so goddamn adorable. Even hadn’t seen him since Tuesday when they sat on his couch watching _Friends_ re-runs late into the night and the irony was not lost on him that that was the show he had chosen. It taunted him: Friends, just friends. 

Isak and Magnus were already in their usual seats when Even arrived, Isak laughing at something Magnus was saying, and Even watched them from the door for several long seconds, drinking in the sight of Isak looking so free without the stress of Even weighing him down. Even wondered how long it would take Isak to look at him in the same lighthearted way he was looking at Magnus, but thought it best not to dwell on it. If the adrenaline currently coursing through his body was any indication, it could be a while. 

He hiked his backpack higher onto his shoulder and crossed the room to join the two boys, determined to claim that seat next to Isak as his, once and for all. Magnus smiled up at him as he approached and Isak turned in curiosity, his green eyes coming to rest on Even. The intensity of his stare had Even freezing immediately, expecting to be sent away, but Isak’s gaze quickly softened at the sight of him. Even released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“Hi,” he said, cursing the way his voice came out sounding two octaves higher than normal. If Isak noticed, he was nice enough not to say anything. 

“Hi,” he returned, but said nothing else. 

Even swallowed down his nerves and then gestured to the seat on Isak’s right. “Can I sit here?” He expected nothing more than an indifferent shrug, but Isak actually nodded, kicking his own bag further under the desk to give Even more room. Gratefully, Even sat. 

He busied himself trying to get his supplies out of his bag, but Isak was still watching him and it made him nervous. He felt like he was walking on eggshells, just waiting for everything he’d worked so hard for to crumble into ash. In contrast, Isak was calm—curious, even—like he was searching for any sign that Even remembered their conversation on the couch that night. _Are we friends now?_ his eyes seemed to ask. _Because I can’t tell_. Even couldn’t tell either. 

Slowly, fighting down the nervousness that was lodged in his throat, Even looked up to stare directly into Isak’s eyes. It wasn’t a challenge or even an answer to his unasked question. It was an admission he hadn’t yet figured out how to say aloud: _I’m here. I’m trying._

Isak smiled at him softly, but quickly averted his gaze, looking down to his notebook and beginning to doodle stick figures in the margins. The pleased grin never left his lips. 

Neither of them seemed to know quite what they were supposed to say to each other, but thankfully, Magnus wasn’t plagued with that same affliction. He carried the conversation for them until the lecture started, regaling them with tales of the three separate drafts of his history essay he had written the night before. 

If Even had thought sitting next to Isak would be any less distracting than sitting ten rows above him, he was very wrong. Now, when Isak bounced his leg beneath the desk, Even could feel it moving against his own. He could see the notes Isak was taking. He could watch, in high definition, the way he bit his lip when he was concentrating, the way he was sitting ramrod straight in his chair, leaning towards the professor’s words like he was scared of missing something. 

Maybe that’s why it was so surprising when, after jotting down what Even thought were notes on the noble gases, Isak slid his notebook to the side, hitting Even’s arm, and pointed to the margin where he had written in his untidy scrawl, _Why are you being weird?_

Even looked from the notebook to the professor, just to make sure he was still there because the idea of Isak ignoring a lecture was _unfathomable_. When he looked back over to him, Isak just rolled his eyes and tapped his written words with his pen to emphasize them. Even read them again, still confused, and then uncapped his own pen to write a reply. 

_I’m not being weird. You’re being weird._

Isak rolled his eyes once more and Even was just about to start counting points when Isak yanked his notebook back, brushing his hand across Even’s as he did so. Fuck, why did that small touch feel so good? 

_Friends_ , he reminded himself. _Just friends._

Even tried to read what Isak was writing from over his shoulder, but he was hunched over the paper, blocking the words with his hand as he wrote. When he passed the notebook back to Even, there was a smug smile on his face. _Don’t lie. You’ve never been this polite in your life._

Probably true. Even was terrified of screwing this up. _Would you prefer me to be rude?_ he replied and, to his surprise, Isak nodded, eyebrows raised like that was the most obvious answer in the world. 

Even started writing once more, using his left hand to shield the words so that Isak had to wait to read them. He could see Isak craning his neck out of the corner of his eye, so he pulled the notebook closer and turned his body, hiding it completely from view. If Isak wanted him to act like a child, he could act like a child. 

He passed his completed note to Isak with a smirk. 

_Fine. Your hair is a fucking mess today. What did you do? Roll out of bed and come straight here?_

It wasn’t a lie. Isak’s hair was adorably tousled—the curls extra curly, the back flattened down like he had been sleeping on it—but what Even didn’t mention was how fucking hot it was. 

Isak reached for the back of his head, instinctually running his fingers through the tangles there, but there was a mirthful smile on his face, like that was exactly what he wanted to hear. 

_Rude enough?_ Even wrote and Isak nodded, his smile growing bigger. 

He then took the notebook back and seemed to deliberate about what to write for several long minutes. Even almost thought he had given up on their little game, but when he finally slid it back, Even’s heart did a flip in his chest because what Isak was offering was so much more than a simple game. It was an olive branch and Even wasn’t even sure he realized it. 

_Me and Jonas are going to get food after this,_ he had written. _Want to come?_

Even stared at the words in shock. He had gone out with Isak and Jonas many, many times, but rarely had he been invited and never by Isak. This, at last, felt like the start of something new. The start of something more. 

* 

_It’s a beautiful Saturday_. Even remembered thinking that when he woke up, but the beauty had faded after several long hours spent directing Mikael’s models into position under the midday sun. Objectively, Even supposed it was _still_ beautiful. The sky was clearer than it had been for days, the crisp autumn breeze was keeping them cool even despite the direct sunlight, and the leaves on the trees were painted in beautiful shades of burnt orange, russet red, and golden yellow. It was the kind of day Even would love to paint if he could ever find the time. Despite all of that, however, his current view was not great. 

He’d been fine when they were shooting the group shots—the photos of the fight scenes and the masquerade ball—but now that everyone else had cleared out and it was just Isak and Emma left, acting as Romeo and Juliet, Even was decisively less pleased with how this day was going. In fact, he would have left a long time ago if Mikael wasn’t adamant about needing his help. 

“Okay, let’s go once more,” Mikael said for the sixth time, putting his camera back on the tripod. Isak’s face fell, like a tiny bit of his soul died at that proclamation. Emma, however, looked delighted. 

“Again?” Isak asked, like he was praying he had misheard, but Emma didn’t wait for confirmation before stepping back into his personal space with a giggle, placing her hand lightly on his arm. Isak turned to Even then, eyes wide and innocent like he was requesting a swift death, but Even was not at liberty to provide him with that. He just gritted his teeth and waited for Mikael to give the order. 

“Just one more time,” Mikael promised. “I’m sorry. It’s the lighting or something. I can’t figure it out.” 

Even had to refrain from rolling his eyes. It was _not_ the lighting, but Mikael was way too kind to admit that. The problem was that Isak seemed incapable of even pretending to enjoy Emma’s kiss, leading to photograph after photograph of Romeo looking like he was in pain rather than in love. 

Isak sighed and reluctantly moved back into position, one arm around Emma’s waist, the other cupping the back of her head, just as Mikael had been instructing him for the past forty-five minutes. (He made no moves without Mikael’s express permission. A natural talent, he was not.) Emma hastily closed the distance between them—since Isak certainly wasn’t going to do it himself—and then they waited for Mikael to get the camera situated. 

They did look beautiful, Even had to admit. They were wearing costumes on loan from the drama department—Emma’s a little big, Isak’s a little small, but you could hardly tell once Mikael staged them the way he wanted. The costume Mikael had Isak in was a deep red, which made his blonde hair shine even brighter. He looked like a Romeo. Or, more accurately, he looked like _Even’s_ Romeo. It was the Juliet, with her roving hands and overeager mouth, that was the problem. 

“Okay,” Mikael finally said and Even’s stomach dropped. “Go ahead.” 

Isak took a deep breath, like a man expecting to drown, and then was promptly attacked by Emma. She lunged towards him, enclosing her lips over his in a wet kiss, and, for the first time, Isak actually moved, lowering the hand behind her neck to rest on her bare collarbone instead. For one harrowing second, Even thought he was actually getting into the kiss, but then he realized Isak was trying to push her back in an effort to temper her enthusiasm a bit. And although it could not be more obvious that he was miserable, Even still found that he was jealous. 

It was like that night at the party all over again, watching someone else get to touch him when Even wasn’t allowed to. It didn’t matter that this time Isak wasn’t leaning into it—that he was actually leaning _away_ —it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated that this girl Isak had just met knew the curves of his lips better than Even did. Hated that he had to stand here and watch her touch him, her porn-worthy moans grating on his nerves until he became nearly deaf, his angry pulse drowning out the sounds of her pleasure. 

After what felt like an eternity, he was brought back to the present as he heard Mikael sigh. “Isak, can I get you to relax your hands a bit?” Isak tried to break the kiss, but Emma pulled him in closer. His eyes were still open, looking over at Even pointedly, but when Even said nothing, he closed his eyes again and relaxed his hands. “And Emma, maybe, uh, let’s not use tongue, okay?” 

It went on like that for at least another thirty seconds before something inside of Even snapped and he had to end it—for his own sanity if not for poor Isak’s. “Okay, stop, stop,” he said. Immediately, Isak took two large steps away from Emma, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, and Even knew without words that they weren’t going to be able to convince him to kiss her again. Thank fuck. 

Mikael turned to glare at Even, who really had no right to end _his_ shoot, but he didn’t bother objecting aloud, just pulled his camera off of the stand to inspect the photographs he’d taken. When Even turned back to Isak, the boy had a soft, relieved smile on his face. Even had never thought of himself as a Prince Charming before, but that was one tough dragon he’d just slayed. Even wounded, however, Emma kept talking, prattling on about her classes and how she and Isak should really get coffee after this. Isak wasn’t listening, but Even didn’t bother redirecting his attention. 

“You okay?” he mouthed, jerking his head towards Emma. Isak rolled his eyes at her expense and nodded. 

“What do you think about this one?” Mikael asked, stepping between them and effectively ending Even’s silent conversation with Isak. He held up the camera’s digital display, showing Even a shot he had taken, but Isak was still too stiff, Emma too loose. There was no passion to it at all. In this version of _Romeo and Juliet_ , Romeo killed himself to get away from Juliet. 

“Does she not fucking know what a stage kiss is?” Even hissed. 

Mikael rolled his eyes and Even could almost feel the tension roiling off of his body. It had been a long day and while it had been fun for some, Mikael had been working the whole time. It wasn’t fair of Even to antagonize him just because he didn’t like one of his models. “Well _you_ direct her, then, if you’re so good,” Mikael snapped. “But let’s not pretend your dislike of her stems from anything other than the fact that you want to be standing where she is.” 

The accusation stung, even if it was the truth. When had Even become that petty? “Well, maybe I should,” he countered, taking petty to a whole new level. “I mean, _I_ , at least, know how to stage kiss.” 

Mikael scoffed. “Sure, Even, you go do that.” 

He probably didn’t mean it literally (okay, he _definitely_ didn’t mean it literally), but now that Even was imagining his lips on Isak’s, the passion brewing between them so thick it would be impossible to miss, even on camera, he couldn’t shake the _want_ that coursed through him. He wanted to erase Emma’s taste from Isak’s mouth and replace it with his own. He wanted to show Isak that it could be better. That he never had to settle for subpar kisses when Even was out there, offering him _more._

Before Even could second guess himself, he shrugged. “Okay, I will,” he said, passing the camera back to Mikael and walking towards Isak without another word. 

“Even,” Mikael hissed behind him in warning. “I wasn’t serious.” But Even was already standing in front of Isak, who was watching him warily over Emma’s shoulder. 

“Can I borrow Isak for a second?” he asked, startling her into silence. She opened her mouth to protest, but it was Isak that answered. 

“Yes,” he said adamantly, pushing past her until he was standing on the other side of Even. He dragged him away a few feet before speaking. “Are we done? Can I leave? No amount of weed is worth this.” 

Even chuckled. “Just one more take, okay?” Isak groaned, but before he could get too upset, Even interrupted him. “With me.” Isak stopped whining immediately and looked up at Even in surprise. “I’ll be your Julian instead of your Juliet. Do you mind?” 

Isak actually winced at that and Even’s heart stopped, sure that he was about to be rejected. “Can you just be my Even instead?” Isak asked softly. “That crazy, stalker ex of mine is named Julian.” 

Even chuckled, his heart feeling suddenly very light. “Deal. You don’t mind though?” 

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before,” Isak pointed out with a shrug, lowering his voice so that only the two of them could hear, although it wouldn’t have mattered much anyway because Mikael was busy sending a reluctant Emma home. Looks like she wasn’t going to get that coffee date after all. “Plus,” Isak continued with a smirk. “I will do literally anything if it means I don’t have to kiss that girl again, so yes, please. Let’s just get this over with.” 

Even smiled, pleased that Isak wasn't so turned off by the idea of kissing him that he'd rather kiss Emma instead, but before he could respond, Mikael was standing in front of them once more, Emma now long gone. "Way to art direct my shoot," he snapped, but he sounded more weary than angry. 

Even raised an eyebrow. "We would have been here for years if you were waiting for the perfect shot with those two." 

"Sorry," Isak added immediately, his cheeks flushing. 

Mikael waved him off. "Whatever. It's not a bad idea. Just...I don't know? Act natural?" He began fiddling with his camera once more, lining up the shot, and Even went ahead and stepped close to Isak—slowly, so as not to frighten him away. Isak let him. 

Luckily, Even was already in costume (albeit something far less princely than what Isak was wearing) because he had been an extra in one of the earlier fight scenes. He wasn't, however, sure what exactly his hair was doing, so he reached up to smooth it down. Isak snorted. 

"Seriously?" he chuckled. "Why are you so obsessed with making sure everyone's hair is perfect?" 

Even blushed, but he was determined to keep his cool. "I'm about to be on camera, Isak. I wouldn't want to tarnish your good reputation by making you kiss someone with bad hair." 

Isak rolled his eyes. "Thanks? I guess?" 

Next to them, Mikael finally got situated. "You two ready? Isak, can I get you to do what you were doing before? Hand closest to the camera on Even's waist? Other one on his neck?" 

Isak swallowed hard, but did as he was asked, stepping closer to Even on his own accord—something he hadn't been comfortable enough to do with Emma—and it sent a shock of desire through Even's body to realize that whatever else they had been building these past few weeks, trust had somehow built between them as well. 

Even didn't wait for further direction, just wrapped his hands loosely around Isak's waist to hold him in place. The two of them stared into each other's eyes and in that moment, it truly did feel like it was just the two of them. Despite the cool autumn breeze, Even suddenly felt very warm and he watched as color blossomed onto Isak's cheeks as well. While Even had certainly been thinking about how nice it would be to get Isak to _stop_ kissing Emma, he hadn't actually given much thought to how nice it would be to kiss Isak again. His stomach soared in excitement like he had just stepped off of a cliff with nothing below to catch him as he fell. Maybe he had. 

"Okay," Mikael said, tearing through Even's thoughts. "Whenever you're ready." 

This time, it was Isak that kissed him first and Even couldn't have anticipated just how much that would effect him. Suddenly, he found himself sympathetic to Emma's earlier plight because now he _understood_. He understood what it was like to know, logically, what you were supposed to be doing and just choose not to because a stage kiss simply wasn't enough. It was torture, really, to now be allowed to kiss Isak, but not be allowed to kiss him exactly how he wanted to. He couldn't grip the front of his shirt and pull him closer—that would mess up the costume. He couldn't cup his face in his hands and run his thumbs along his cheeks—that would block Mikael's shot. He couldn't deepen the kiss, couldn't use _tongue_. Still, it was dizzying, the warm, wet heat of Isak's lips against him. 

"That's good!" Mikael called and for the first time in an hour, he actually sounded excited. "Now can we—?" 

Before he could say anything more, Isak had deepened the kiss himself, his lips now moving _against_ Even's, his fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Even's eyes startled open in surprise, but Isak's were still closed in front of him and Even instantly shut his again, clenching his fists into the fabric at Isak's sides to keep his hands from roaming and then, miraculously, they were kissing for real. 

"Or that'll work," Even heard Mikael mutter and then the click of a camera shutter going off over and over. After what wasn't nearly enough time at all, Mikael stopped them. "Okay, we're good. You can stop now." 

Isak stepped back, his lips dragging lazily over Even's, and Even fluttered his eyes open, taking in the other boy's flushed cheeks with unrestrained interest. His first instinct was to pull him back in and that's when he realized that fuck, he'd really screwed himself this time. 

They stared at each other in surprise, both still trying to comprehend what had just happened, but were thankfully interrupted by Mikael running over, waving his camera enthusiastically. "Oh my god, look at these!" he cried, holding the screen out for both of them to see as he flipped through several of the shots he had just taken. 

Even didn't bother looking at himself, but Isak was breathtakingly beautiful. Literally. The photos instantly stole Even's breath away and it wasn't just Isak’s pale skin and rose red lips that did it. In the pictures burned a flame of passion that couldn't be faked, not even by the most experienced of actors. Even wondered if Isak, suddenly sheepish, his lips still swollen from their kiss, could recognize that same unmistakeable fire as well. 

* 

After the shoot, Even and Isak had to trek back to the fine arts building to change clothes and return their costumes. They did so in silence, but it wasn't as awkward as it once might have been. Isak was walking close to him, their hands brushing against each other every so often, and Even was pretty sure he actually wanted to be there, which was rare for Isak. 

"Do you need a ride home?" Even asked once they finished changing. 

"Oh, you don't have to," Isak shrugged, but Even knew he didn't have a car and would have to take the tram home if he didn't offer. 

"Let me take you home," he said, re-wording his request. "I think I might owe you." 

Isak let out a humorless chuckle. "Well, that's certainly true." Still, he hesitated. 

"I've got to go into work anyway," Even said, which was a lie, but Isak didn’t have to know that. "Just come with me. We can get lunch at the coffee shop and then you can walk home." Isak deliberated for a while, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, but eventually agreed. 

By the time they reached the coffee shop, ordered, and settled into a table in the corner, Isak was in a mood and it was so endearing to watch, Even's heart felt like it had grown several sizes too big for his chest. 

"I can't believe you fucking convinced me to agree to that!" Isak cried for the third time, spearing a bite of the same chocolate cake Even had given him a week earlier onto his fork. 

" _I_ did?" Even laughed. " _I'm_ the one who told you not to do it!" 

Isak scoffed. "Yeah, but I was only doing it for you anyway, so it's still your fault." Even was suddenly flooded with warmth, but he tried not to let his face show how happy he was because he didn't think Isak would take kindly to that. Still, he seemed to sense the magnitude of his words because he tempered them with a caveat, "Yours and Jonas's. I don't even _know_ Mikael." 

"Why would you do it for me in the first place?" Even couldn't help but ask. "You supposedly don't even _like_ me." 

Isak rolled his eyes. "I thought we were friends now," he said, his tone joking. "Make up your damn mind. I can't keep up." 

Even couldn’t help but think that if they had been having this same conversation a week ago, it would go very differently. Isak’s words would be more accusatory, his tone more biting. Instead, there was a levity to it that Even hadn’t expected so soon. Isak was still short with him often, like it had become a habit to get annoyed by literally everything Even did, but there was no malice behind it now. It was a welcome change. 

The two of them sat sipping their coffees in silence until suddenly, Isak groaned. He had been doing that at regular intervals any time he flashed back to kissing Emma. He noticeably cringed in his seat, almost knocking his fork to the floor. “God, I am definitely gay,” he noted and Even laughed. 

“Was it my kiss that convinced you?” he joked. “Was I that good?” 

Isak rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it might hurt. _That’s a three-pointer, at least_ , Even thought absently, but then shook his head to clear it of his internal Annoyed Isak Scorecard. 

“No,” Isak pouted. “Emma’s just that bad.” From what Even had seen, he thought that was probably accurate. “Although," he continued, a flirtatious lilt to his voice, "if I _hadn’t_ known I was gay before, your kiss definitely would have removed all doubt.” 

Even didn’t blush often, but at Isak’s words, his cheeks flamed and his heart began to race into overdrive. Was Isak…flirting with him? All signs pointed to yes despite the fact that Even had no precedent to compare it to. He suddenly felt guilty for all of the times he’d flirted with Isak over the past semester, never knowing that it felt quite like this. Had every quip hit Isak this hard? Had every taunt made him feel weak at the knees, like he had lost control of both his body and his free will? God, Even knew why Isak hated him now. It was a rush, sure, but it left him feeling open and exposed. There was an intimacy to it and Even couldn’t help but wonder if Isak felt it as well. 

Isak hid a pleased grin behind his coffee cup, but continued to stare at Even from beneath his golden eyelashes. “Red’s a good color on you,” he smiled, pointing to Even’s cheeks. Even just nodded, the fight drained out of him. 

“Thank you,” he said and immediately kicked himself for it. Isak’s smile only grew bigger. 

“This is going to be fun,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We’re going to be best friends, Even, just wait and see.” 

* 

It was a few hours later before Even made it back home to find Jonas playing FIFA in the living room. He paused his game and looked up at the sound of the door shutting. 

“Hey,” he greeted. “Are you just now finishing with Mikael? Where’ve you been?” 

Even sighed heavily and plopped down in his favorite armchair, letting the soft fabric swallow him up. “We finished around one,” he admitted, “but me and Isak went out for coffee afterwards.” 

Jonas’s politely interested smile turned into a frown. “So you guys are what? Friends now?” 

Even groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re jealous. I can’t fucking do this again.” 

Jonas laughed, the sound filling the room completely. It was one of the things Even liked best about him—his easy sense of humor and the way he shared his happiness with everyone around him. He made their cheap-ass apartment feel more like a home. “I have no desire to sleep with either one of you, so no, I’m good. No jealousy here. Be as friendly as you want, just keep me out of it.” 

Silence fell between them, but for some reason Jonas didn’t turn back to his video game. Instead, he kept staring at Even, like he was inspecting him, and even when Even looked away, he could feel Jonas’s gaze linger. When Jonas grabbed the remote and turned the TV off altogether, Even couldn’t help but feel like a child about to be scolded for something he wasn’t even aware he had done wrong. 

“So, I have rules,” Jonas said without preamble. Even looked up at him, eyes widened in surprise. He half-expected the boy to be joking, but there was no sign of a smile on his face. Whatever this was, it was serious. “But first: questions. Why the fuck did you kiss him?” 

A black hole of guilt settled in Even’s gut so fast that it left him dizzy. Had Isak said something to Jonas about it already? Had he not wanted it? Did he regret it? “I, um, I thought it would be the quickest way to get us out of there. I mean, it wasn’t working with Emma.” He paused, something else occurring to him. “He said he was fine with it as long as he didn’t have to kiss her again. I mean, it was a stage kiss. It wasn’t, like, real.” His stomach twisted at the lie. 

Jonas furrowed his thick eyebrows in confusion. “What?” 

Even tried to make sense of the question, but he just couldn’t. “What?” he repeated, a strong sense of déjà vu washing over him. 

“You kissed him _again_?” Jonas cried, his face caught somewhere between disbelief and amazement. 

Even grimaced. “It was just, like, a small kiss.” Fuck, another lie. Jonas raised an eyebrow doubtfully, but chose not to argue semantics. 

“Okay, first rule,” he said. “No more random kissing. It confuses him. The next time you kiss him, you better have taken him out on a real date first or I’m going to be really fucking pissed.” 

Even frowned. “Wait. You’re giving me rules about _Isak_?” 

“Yes, I’m giving you rules about Isak,” Jonas said without a hint of shame. “Because he won’t give them to you himself and I’m the closest thing to family that he has.” Even instantly sobered. “Now, tell me: What are your intentions with him?” 

It was a ridiculous question—they both should have been laughing—but Even could sense the gravity of it, could sense that to Jonas this was not a game. He swallowed hard. “I want…” he trailed off, really trying to think about the answer. What did he want besides everything? A friend? A boyfriend? A partner? They were in this nebulous place where they weren’t really any of those things, but Even wanted so much more. “I want whatever he’ll give me,” he admitted. And then, figuring it was the kind of thing Jonas might need to hear, “And nothing more.” 

Jonas tried to keep a straight face, but soon he was smiling. “Damn, you’re good at that,” he chuckled. 

Even shrugged. “It’s all those rom-coms I watch.” 

“Look,” Jonas said after a minute. “Isak can take care of himself, so I’m not here to tell you that if you break his heart, I’ll kill you. But…if you break his heart, I’ll kill you, okay? And then it’ll be really fucking awkward because I’m going to have to share the apartment with your corpse.” Even snorted his amusement and nodded. “He’s had too much pain in his life. He’s long overdue for something good. So, rule number two: Realize how goddamn lucky you are that he’s talking to you at all because he doesn't let just anyone in. And, before I forget, rule number three: Never, under any circumstances, have sex with him in this apartment while I am here. I swear to god, Even, I’m not kidding. I refuse to listen to you have sex with my best friend. I just can’t do it.” 

“Deal,” Even agreed with a laugh. “But he doesn’t want to have sex with me anyway. I’m still not even sure whether he likes me or if he is just putting up with me because I buy him cake.” 

Jonas stared at him, emotionless, for several long seconds. “You two are perfect for each other, I swear to god.” 

* 

Even couldn't sleep that night, stomach still in tangles as he thought about his kiss with Isak. He tried to soothe his thoughts, to slow his heart, but he was too excited for a reason even he didn't understand, so, figuring it was best to at least make use of the time, he turned his bedside lamp back on, grabbed his sketchbook, and began to draw. It was something he'd been doing a lot more lately. It settled his jitters, calmed his mind. 

He sketched a rough outline of Isak's face as he had looked that afternoon, cheeks flushed after their kiss, hair shining gold in the sunlight. He drew his Cupid's bow lips, the fan of his long eyelashes against his cheeks. Only when he had finished and the memory of Isak inside of him lived on in the paper instead, never to be forgotten, was he able to empty his mind enough to sleep. 

* 

The next week was pleasant. Isak now only rolled his eyes at about a third of his interactions with Even, but the more astounding feat was that he was interacting at all. When he came over to their apartment, he no longer hid away in Jonas's room like he once would have. He acted put off by it, like he would much prefer to never see Even at all if given the choice, but he never actually left. Jonas spent a lot of time smirking, hiding his laughter behind cans of beer. 

Jonas also spent a lot of time making himself scarce, but if Isak noticed, he didn't bother to complain about it. If the three of them were studying in the library, he would suddenly get a text from Eva, asking him to be elsewhere. If they went out to eat, he would make sure Isak and Even sat on the same side of the booth. Even could feel something brewing, he just didn't understand exactly what it was. The one thing that gave him hope that maybe he wasn't alone in his feelings was the fact that Jonas, for some inexplicable reason, seemed to think their relationship was progressing along well enough to require rules about when and where they were allowed to have sex. So what, exactly, was Isak telling him? 

Even was lost in his own thoughts, thinking, as he had many times since his conversation with Jonas, about whether Isak would be agreeable to going on a date with him. He just didn't know how much of Isak's persistent annoyance was real and how much of it was a facade. He knew that the easiest way to find out would be to just ask him, but his stomach flipped painfully whenever he thought about it. He'd just gotten Isak to stop overtly hating him. He didn't want to ruin the fledgling friendship they had just started to build. 

When he stepped into his apartment Friday night, he was momentarily surprised to find it already full of people, but then remembered that Jonas had warned him about his friends coming over. Even had meant to stay the night with Mikael to give them some privacy, but he had completely forgotten. 

"Even!" Magnus cried immediately, throwing his arms into the air like Even was the most welcome surprise. Even chuckled and slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on the rack by the door. 

"What's up, Mags?" 

Magnus immediately started telling him about some girl he'd tried to hook up with at a party the night before—a girl who, apparently, had a very large, very jealous boyfriend. They all laughed at his expense, but Even was only half listening, his eyes flitting over to Isak instead who was leaning back against the bar between their living room and kitchen. He was staring back at him, his lips lifted in a smirk, and Even felt inexplicably drawn to him. So, not bothering to question it, he wandered over and mirrored Isak's relaxed pose. 

"You're not supposed to be here," Isak said quietly enough not to draw the attention of the others. 

"Excuse me," Even laughed. "But I _live_ here." 

Isak's green eyes sparkled in amusement. "Jonas said you were staying with Mikael tonight?" 

"That was my plan," Even agreed, pulling out his phone. "But I totally forgot you guys were coming over." He opened his text conversation with Mikael to give him some warning that he was about to show up on his doorstep, but before he could start typing, Isak, who had apparently been reading over his shoulder, grabbed his arm and lowered it so that he too could look at the screen. 

"Is that our picture?" he asked, pointing to the last text Mikael had sent. Even nodded and clicked on the thumbnail to make it larger, passing the phone to Isak so that he could look at it himself. 

"I meant to send it to you," Even said. "Must have forgotten that too." That was, of course, a lie. He'd wanted to send it to Isak the second he got it— _look how pretty we are, look how good we look together_ —but he thought it might be weird sending a picture of them kissing to his new bestie, so he hesitated and soon too much time had passed, so he decided to pretend that he had never seen it at all. (This was very difficult as he had to fight the urge to set it as his lock screen daily). 

He shuffled his feet nervously as Isak examined the image and imagined in his mind's eye what he was looking at. He had every inch of that photograph memorized by now. In the picture, Isak had his head tilted towards Even, lips parted, waiting for a kiss. Even, in turn, hovered over him, his own lips only a breath away, close enough to reach out and steal the kiss that Isak was offering; but, in contrast, Even's eyes were open, the bright blue appearing even brighter against the autumn landscape behind them. It was easy to see why Mikael had chosen that particular picture. There was a fondness to Even's gaze, a passion behind it, that spoke of a yearning long unsatisfied. He was looking down at Isak in almost reverent disbelief, like he couldn't understand how he had gotten so lucky. 

He wondered if it would be too much for Isak to handle—if Even's eagerness in the picture would read as creepy or unwelcome—but there was a soft smile on his face that suggested Even’s worries were unfounded. He let Isak look at it for a good long while, but was finally forced to tear his attention away. 

"I should probably text Mikael," he said. Isak startled at the sound of his voice, like he had completely forgotten he was there. "Let him know to expect me." 

A faint blush rose to Isak's cheeks as he passed the phone back to Even. "You should stay, if you want," he said, his voice firm, like he was trying extra hard to make sure it didn't waver. 

"Yeah?" Even asked. 

Isak nodded, but refused to meet his gaze as he pushed off of the counter and went to join his friends in the living room. It was only when he was what he must have deemed a safe distance away that he tossed a casual glance over his shoulder. "Magnus'll miss you if you go," he shrugged, which might have been true, but the flush of his cheeks suggested that Magnus wouldn’t be the only one. 

And because Even couldn’t stand the thought of leaving when Isak was asking him to stay, he settled onto the couch with him, their legs touching they were so close, and that’s where he stayed for the rest of the night. Even when Isak fell asleep next to him, his head falling to rest on Even’s shoulder. Even when the boys saw and started making fun of him for it. Even when Even felt like he was going to combust with all of the emotions trapped inside of him. Still, he stayed. 


	5. Isak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of an emotional roller coaster, so hold on tight.

Isak had been staring at the unsent text for close to ten minutes, weighing and re-weighing the pros and cons of sending it. He was sitting in his usual spot at the back of the library, bored out of his mind, and he needed a distraction—preferably one that was tall, blonde, and irresistible. Every time he went to press send, however, something stopped him. It was nerves mostly, but also a deep-seated fear of rejection that he just couldn’t shake. A fear that he was misreading the signs. A fear that Even was still playing some sort of game with him. Twenty points for a kiss. Fifty for a fuck. But the voice of reason in his head—a voice that sounded an awful lot like Jonas—told him that the Even who sent him stupid memes in the middle of the night and kissed him like he fucking meant it could never be that cruel. Without giving himself time to change his mind, he pressed send. 

_I’m bored. Come study with me._

He re-read the text probably ten times as it sat glowing blue on his screen, taunting him. God, what had he been thinking? That was way too desperate, way too flirty—like he was _begging_ for attention—and as the seconds ticked by without a response, he started to regret every minute of his life that had led him to this moment. Then, miraculously, another bubble appeared, indicating that Even was typing a reply. Isak’s stomach dropped and when the text finally came though, the vibration almost gave him a heart attack. 

_Library?_

It was just one word, but Isak couldn’t help the dopey grin that rose to his lips. 

_Yeah. Usual spot_

_On my way_

There were very few people in Isak’s life that he could summon and they would just come, no questions asked. It warmed something inside of him to know that Even, apparently, was now one of those people. 

It took almost twenty minutes for Even to get there, but when he did, he came with coffee and Isak had to bite back the “I love you” that almost escaped him. He was bone weary, half asleep where he was sitting. He had tossed and turned the whole night, mind too full to settle into sleep, and every drop of caffeine he could get was like an elixir of life to his deadened mind. 

“How did you know?” he asked as Even sat down across from him and slid the warm cup over. 

Even chuckled. “Good guess, I suppose.” 

Isak watched as he unspooled his scarf from around his neck, his cheeks still flushed from the wind outside. It occurred to him that just a few short weeks earlier, he had been fuming at the sight of Even sitting at his and Jonas’s table. Now, there was no one _more_ welcome to sit with him than Even, looking effortlessly beautiful, sent from the gods to distract him from what he was actually supposed to be working on. 

“No, but really,” Even said, interrupting his thoughts. Isak, startled from his reverie, took a long sip of the coffee Even had brought him to try to hide the glazed over look he was sure he had been wearing. “Do you ever sleep at all? Every time I’ve seen you in the past week, you’ve looked half dead.” 

“Uh, thanks?” Isak quipped. 

“Isak,” Even said, rolling his eyes. “You texted me about the chemistry homework at three this morning. Why aren’t you sleeping?” 

Fuck, he hadn’t realized he had sent that so late. He thought about brushing the question off or lying—like he had been doing to Jonas all week—but there was something about Even’s worried frown that convinced him to tell the truth. Or maybe it was just that he was so tired his guard was literally non-existent. 

“It’s just stress,” he admitted. “Sometimes when I have too much going on, I can’t turn my mind off. It’ll be fine. I’ll crash this weekend, sleep for like twenty-four hours straight, then I’ll be good again.” 

“That doesn’t sound safe,” Even noted, which was probably an accurate assessment. He frowned and stared Isak right in the eyes, like maybe he could find a way to fix his problems by brute force alone. “What are you stressed about?” 

Isak shrugged. “Exams. My dad being a first class dick to my mom. Rent.” _You_. Isak didn’t say it—didn’t want to lay that guilt on Even’s shoulders—but if he had, he would make sure Even knew that he was the most enjoyable thing keeping him awake. That when he was thinking about him, he didn’t even mind the long hours slipping by, stealing the night away. He would also make sure he knew that the masturbatory fantasies Even had provided him with over the past several weeks were the one foolproof way he had found to lull himself to sleep at all. 

Even unpacked his bag, pulling out notebooks and his chemistry homework, and Isak just watched him do it. “I hope you don’t expect me to help you with that,” he said, his mind too tired to even bother being polite. 

Even snorted. “Did you not invite me here to study? What’re we supposed to do instead? Make out in the stacks?” 

Isak tilted his head, like he was mulling the offer over, but eventually dropped the façade and rolled his eyes. “Let me drink my coffee first,” he hedged, taking another sip. “Then I’ll explain stoichiometry to you for the tenth time.” 

Even was actually a quick learner when he put his mind to it, so after only a few nudges in the right direction, he was pretty much self-sufficient, bent over his textbook across from Isak, chewing on his lip as he continued working his way through his problem set. Isak, on the other hand, had nothing better to do than watch Even work and strangely, he found that he was fine with that. It was weird to think that he knew what those lips felt like on his, that he fell asleep at night to the comfort of that memory. 

He was still watching Even, already half in a dream, when he looked over at him with one eyebrow raised. Isak promptly averted his gaze and didn’t turn back until he heard Even scribbling on a sheet of paper once more. Figuring that he should probably find something else to distract himself, he began rifling through his belongings scattered over the table. First he flipped through his psychology textbook, looking at the multi-colored pictures of brain scans; then through his history notes; then, not knowing what it was, he picked up a green notebook that had somehow lodged itself into a pile of his things. As soon as he opened it, he knew it wasn't his, but he was too intrigued to put it down. 

Inside were what must have been at least a hundred sketches, each drawn with the utmost precision and care. There were sketches of campus, of Jonas and Even’s apartment, of Even’s friends, of—Isak’s breath caught in his throat—of _him_. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, chancing a glance up at Even who still had his head buried in his textbook. Feeling like he was doing something highly illicit, Isak looked down at the notebook again and began examining it more closely. 

The first picture of Isak was a roughly drawn pencil sketch, but strangely accurate nevertheless. There was no date on it and Isak wanted so badly to ask Even when he had drawn it, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Not until he had looked his fill. He flipped through a few more pages until he came to another drawing of himself, this one more detailed. It was still in pencil, but now with shading to highlight the curve of his jaw, the dimple on his chin. There was one of him dressed as Romeo with a small flower tucked behind his ear; one of him sitting in class, bent over his notes; one of him asleep on the couch in Jonas’s apartment. Each one was painstakingly detailed, like Even had been copying a photo, but Isak had the sneaking suspicion that he had drawn them from memory. 

He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to _do_. He thought about just closing the notebook and tucking it away again, but there was a warmth in his heart that just wouldn’t let him. He didn’t know what one was supposed to feel when they found a notebook littered with images of their own likeness, but there was so much passion to the pictures, so much emotion, that he couldn’t help but be flattered, because here, for the first time, was definitive proof that whatever was happening between the two of them wasn’t part of some game. This wasn’t a calculated move. This was something Even had done just for himself. 

Unable to resist, Isak cleared his throat, calling Even’s attention to him. Even looked up lazily and his brows furrowed in confusion at Isak’s bashful glance. Not knowing how to broach the subject, Isak just flicked his eyes down to the notebook in front of him and then back up again. Even followed his gaze and the color instantly drained from his face. 

“Fuck,” he said, swallowing hard. He looked very much like he wanted to reach out and rip the book from Isak’s tight grasp, but he seemed to sense that Isak would not let it go. The two of them stared at each other, both probably wondering who was going to start yelling first, but to Isak’s surprise, neither of them did. “So, I can explain…” Even drawled and then waited several more long seconds—probably hoping lighting would strike him dead in the middle of the library to keep him from having to answer—before finally, reluctantly, responding in one breath. “I swear I’m not a stalker. You seem to have enough of those already.” 

Isak couldn’t help but laugh, the sound taking over his body until it became more than just an amused giggle. He had reached that phase of being tired where everything, at baseline, seemed hysterical, and he just couldn’t stop laughing. Especially not once Even blushed, the color painting his cheeks beautifully. Isak understood the impulse then—if he could draw, he would want to draw this moment so that he could save it forever. 

“Did you draw all of these?” he asked once he recovered, flipping through the book once more. Sheepishly, Even nodded. “They’re really good.” 

Even shrugged. “It’s not hard to make you look beautiful.” 

It was Isak’s turn to blush and then they were both just sitting there, blushing like virgins, their smiles wider than they had any right to be in the school library. 

“Do you really mean that?” Isak asked, his stomach lurching as the words left his mouth without permission. 

Even’s smile softened and, although he still looked embarrassed beyond belief, he met Isak’s gaze and held it until Isak felt the next words inside of him, resonating in his very soul. “Isak,” he breathed reverently, “I’ve meant every compliment I’ve ever given you. I admit that sometimes I only gave them because I knew you hated the attention, but I never—not once—didn’t believe every word that I was saying.” 

Isak stared at him, feeling more vulnerable than he had in quite a while, but eventually closed the notebook in front of him and handed it back to Even. 

“Sorry for snooping,” he muttered, but Even just seemed pleased that he wasn’t yelling. 

Later in the night, as they were packing up their things, Even tore a page out of his sketchbook, folded it in half, and offered it to Isak with a smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked and Isak nodded. 

It was only after Even had walked away and Isak stood waiting for the tram that he pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket to examine it. It was the drawing of him dressed as Romeo, only now the flower in his hair had been filled in with a yellow colored pencil. And above the picture, in Even’s precise handwriting, was written: _So you never forget how beautiful you are._

* 

It was a few days later and Isak had been pacing in his apartment for hours, thinking about Even. He was like a poison that took over his mind until he couldn't focus on anything else. It had always been like that with Even—all-consuming, addictive—but now it was a poison he didn’t mind stomaching. When he thought of Even, there was no longer a darkness inside of him, a thundercloud of anger and regret. Now Even made him think of summer and sunshine, even as the weather continued to grow colder. He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. 

He unlocked his phone, swiping aside three unread text messages from his father, and looked again at the reply Even had sent him ten minutes earlier when he inquired about what he was up to: _At work. You should stop by. I’ll bring you more cake._ The thing was that Isak _wanted_ to. He had never felt this pull towards someone before, this _need_ to be close to them. With Even, everything was different and he was tired of not letting himself have what he wanted, so he grabbed his keys off of his bedside table and left the apartment. 

The coffee shop was busy when he walked in, but he spotted Even easily, towering over everyone else in the room as he leaned across the bar, talking and laughing with a very familiar head of curly brown hair. Unbidden, a swoop of jealousy shot through him, only this time it wasn’t directed at Even at all. He almost laughed at the irony of it. 

“God, I’m a fucking idiot,” he muttered and then made his way over to join Jonas at the bar. 

Even spotted him first, his face lighting up with enthusiasm, and Jonas followed his gaze, rolling his eyes at the sight of Isak. “I thought you didn’t come here?” he asked, raising a lone judgmental eyebrow in his direction. Isak waved him off, climbing onto the barstool next to him. 

“Hi,” Even said, all smiles, and Isak couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Hi.” 

“Oh my god,” Jonas groaned. “It’s starting. Okay, I’m going to get out of here and let you two flirt in peace.” He hopped off of his seat and then leveled them both with a hard glare. “Remember my rules,” he said and then, without waiting for a reply, he was gone. 

“He gave you rules too?” Even asked, his forehead crinkled. 

Isak shrugged. “Must have. When do you get off?” 

Even glanced down at his watch. “Another hour. Want that slice of cake?” 

“No,” Isak said, shaking his head. “I’m starving. I need more than cake. Do you have sandwiches or something?” 

Even nodded. “Sure. It’s going to be on a croissant, though. Is that too hipster for you?” 

Isak flipped him off, but Even just smirked and left to prepare his order. When he brought it back, Isak started eating immediately. “Good?” Even chuckled, watching him scarf it down. Isak nodded eagerly and Even watched him eat for a few more minutes, but then had to run back to the counter to help a customer. When he returned, Isak’s plate was empty. 

“When was the last time you ate real food?” Even asked, his tone skeptical that this had ever happened at all. 

“What do you mean? _That_ was real food.” 

“That was not real food,” Even said, shaking his head. “When’s the last time you actually cooked for yourself?” 

Isak sputtered out several aborted replies before finally settling on, “I can cook!” 

Even laughed. “I never said you couldn’t. I just have a feeling you’re too lazy to.” Isak couldn’t exactly argue with that. He shrugged. “Let me cook for you,” Even said and Isak reeled back slightly in surprise at the offer. “Friday night?” 

Isak bit his lip, trying to prevent himself from agreeing too enthusiastically, but Even must have mistaken his excitement for shyness because he slid his hand across the bar until his fingers and Isak’s were just barely touching. It felt like a promise. 

“Yeah,” Isak agreed with a shy smile. “Friday night.” 

* 

Isak had been on a lot of dates in his life, but he had never been this nervous, this excited, this _determined_ to get it right. He spent a good hour trying to find the perfect outfit and then, once he found it, promptly second-guessed himself. Was a sweater too nice for just hanging around the apartment? What if Even hadn’t been asking him on a date at all? What if he really did just want to eat dinner? But then he thought back to the way their hands had brushed against each other in the café and how a spark had shot down his arm at the contact, like his body knew what his mind was having so much trouble grasping: this was real, this was happening. 

His stomach was tied into painful knots—he couldn’t even imagine being able to eat a meal, no matter how delicious the food was—and his heart was racing so hard that his fingertips were staring to feel numb. 

_It’s just Even_ , he told himself, and, when that didn’t work, _He got a boner from rubbing up against you in a closet. You can’t possibly embarrass yourself worse than that_. Strangely, that managed to calm him down. 

His phone dinged with a text from Even and he opened it warily, already convinced that he was about to cancel on him, but all it said was, _Can’t wait to see you_. With a huge smile on his face, Isak collapsed onto his bed and fell into a mountain of pillows. His phone then started ringing and he answered it immediately, not even bothering to check the display despite the fact that he had been screening his calls for days. 

“Hello?” he greeted and even he could hear the smile in his voice. To his surprise, it wasn't Even who answered. 

Isak sat straight up in bed, hand already moving to end the call, but his father didn’t even pause for breath before telling Isak the news he had known was coming. Everything around him went quiet until all he could hear was his father’s voice—stern, not in the least bit sympathetic—coming in and out of focus as the blood started rushing to his ears, blocking off the sound. Still, he was able to catch the gist of it. _Your mother’s not well…I’ve found a place that can take care of her better than she can take care of herself…It’s three hours away…three hours away…three hours away…_

When his father finished talking and started asking questions instead, Isak hung up without ever saying a word. He'd said it all before—multiple times. His father just never listened. 

In the span of sixty seconds, he had gone from feeling too much to feeling nothing at all. He was numb, his heart hardened in his chest. He sat on the edge of his bed for a long time, trying not to think about anything, and when his alarm finally went off, telling him it was time to leave for Even’s, he shook himself out of his stupor and went, forcing a smile onto his face. It was a part that he had leaned to play well. __

He didn’t remember leaving his apartment or getting on the tram. His body was moving by muscle memory alone and when he finally came to, he was already standing outside of Even’s door. Surprised to find himself there, he took a second to compose himself, to empty his mind and grab on to the memory of how excited he had been only a few hours before. It didn’t work perfectly, but he could once again feel the soft flutter of butterflies in his stomach. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and knocked. After a good twenty seconds without an answer, he knocked again. This time, he heard a muffled exclamation of surprise and then the clatter of something falling to the floor. Despite his mood, Isak couldn’t help but smile. 

“Do you need help in there?” he called through the door, smirking. 

“I’m coming!” Even called back, his voice getting closer and, sure enough, only a few seconds later, the door was wrenched open to a very harried Even standing on the other side. His cheeks were flushed from either the heat of the stove, embarrassment, or a combination of the two, and there was a plain black apron tied around his waist. “Don’t say a word,” he said preemptively, but Isak couldn't resist. 

“Nice apron,” he said, pushing past Even into the apartment. “You should have bought a ‘Kiss the Cook’ one. I might have been inclined to follow directions.” Even grinned sheepishly, his eyes falling to the ground, and something inside of Isak soared at the sight of how affected he was by such a simple comment. Although his father’s phone call was still at the front of his mind, he was determined to not let it ruin his night. 

Even shut the door behind him and then untied the apron, crumbling it into a ball in his hand. Beneath it, he was wearing dark jeans and a blue-striped button-down that was tight across his shoulders, highlighting the lean muscles Isak now knew he was hiding. He was pleased to note that Even had dressed up as well. Maybe this _was_ a date after all. “You’re early,” Even said, which was, admittedly, true. “Eager much?” 

Isak gave him a coy grin and shrugged. “So what if I am?” 

The two of them made their way into the kitchen where Even was just finishing up dinner. There was a spatula on the floor and Even picked it up with a huff. “You startled me,” he said by way of explanation. 

Isak stepped around him and looked into the skillet sitting atop the stove. There was some sort of buttery seafood pasta inside and it smelled so delicious, his mouth started watering. 

“It smells really good,” he said, looking over his shoulder to find that Even was watching him expectantly. 

“Yeah?” Even smiled. “Well, I hope it tastes good. My mom gave me the recipe. We used to have it all the time at home, but I’ve never made it myself. Oh! Taste this!” He reached out and scooped up a spoonful of the sauce, holding it out for Isak to taste, his hand hovering beneath the spoon to keep it from spilling onto the floor. Isak felt himself blush, but he leaned forward and took the bite regardless, a quiet hum of satisfaction slipping past his lips. 

“Good?” Even smiled and Isak could only nod. Even then began talking about everything he’d had to do to make dinner perfect, but before Isak could get pulled into the conversation, he felt his phone buzz inside his pocket—one text, then two—and he just knew they were from his dad. The numbness from earlier overtook him once more, drowning out everything else until Even’s voice was just mindless chatter in the back of his head. It was only when the sound stopped altogether that he realized it had been there at all. He looked up to find Even watching him expectantly. 

“What?” he asked, blushing, embarrassed to have tuned out what Even was saying for even a second. 

“I said: What do you want to drink?” Even chuckled, stepping over to the fridge. “I can pour you some wine?” On instinct, Isak crinkled his nose in disgust. “Beer, then? You seemed to like the one you stole from me that one time.” This, Isak was much more agreeable to. Even pulled him out a bottle and used the edge of the counter to pop the top off. Isak thanked him and took a small sip, but when he looked back to Even, he was surprised to find him frowning down at him. “Are you okay?” Even asked and Isak couldn’t help but bristle at the question. 

“Yeah,” he said immediately, forcing his attention away from the phone in his pocket. “Just tired, I guess.” 

Even rolled his eyes. “You’re literally always tired though. I’m going to force you to sleep tonight. You’re no good to me exhausted.” 

Isak smirked. “Is that a promise?” Even, once again, blushed, and Isak couldn’t help but think that he was starting to get the hang of this whole flirting thing. “Do you want me to set the table?” he asked, knowing that the monotony would help settle his mind. 

“Oh, yeah,” Even said, like he had completely forgotten that was a thing that needed to happen. “That would be great.” 

Isak did as instructed, pulling out plates and silverware and carrying them to the table where an unlit candle was already sitting. He smiled down at it and then looked over at Even fondly. Yeah, this was definitely a date. 

“So, what are we going to do if dinner sucks?” he asked just to be contrary, walking back into the kitchen and cocking his hip against the counter as Even turned off the eye of the stove. 

Even let out a humorless laugh, but to Isak’s surprise, he actually answered. “I’ve got two frozen pizzas and a pint of Rocky Road on standby.” 

They ended up not needing the pizzas because dinner was delicious. Like Isak had predicted, he couldn’t eat much of it, his stomach still tangled into a knot of nervous energy, but the little bit that he was able to get down made him fall that much more in love with Even. 

Better than the meal, however, was the calm that came with it. They sat talking to each other, teasing at times, the lights dim and their voices low as the candle flickered between them in a way that was almost hypnotic. It was the kind of cheesy atmosphere that Isak hated, but Even loved. For once, he didn’t feel the urge to call him out on it. 

As they ate, they began drifting closer to each other until their legs were tangled together underneath the table, Even's hand resting lightly on Isak's knee. Isak’s body felt like it was on fire where they were touching and his mouth was watering again, craving something the food in front of him could not satisfy. He thought of the closet at the end of the hall where they had stood weeks ago, the hard line of Even’s dick pressing into him. He thought of Even’s bedroom where they had shared their first kiss. He wondered where they were going to end up tonight. 

“I’m really glad you’re here right now,” Even said, sliding his other hand across the table and lacing his fingers through Isak’s. Isak’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. 

“Yeah,” he agreed breathlessly. “I’m really glad I’m here too.” 

As if drawn by some invisible force, Isak found himself leaning closer to Even, gravitating towards him like he was the sun at the center of his universe. To his surprise, Even did the same. His lips were parted, his eyes never leaving Isak’s, and they were close—close enough that their noses were touching—but before their lips could meet, Isak’s phone once again interrupted things, vibrating loudly in his pocket. He groaned, pulling back, and Even laughed. 

“You can answer it,” he said. “They obviously want to talk to you.” 

“Yeah,” Isak grumbled. “I just don’t want to talk to _them_.” He fished his phone out of his pocket once the ringing stopped, only to have it start up again. And, sure enough, it was his father, probably calling to make sure he wasn’t mad—which he most definitely was. He turned the phone off without a second thought and left it sitting next to him on the table, finding peace in the blank screen. He stared down at it, fuming, for several long seconds, expecting it to somehow defy the laws of electronics and start ringing again. 

“Seriously, Isak,” Even said, running his thumb soothingly along the top of his hand. “Are you okay?” And there was that fucking question again. It snapped something inside of him, rebuilding all of the walls around his heart that Even had been so carefully dismantling, because Isak was angry—had been angry all night—and if there was one person he knew how to be angry with, it was Even. 

“I’m fucking fine,” he retorted, making it very clear that he was nowhere near fucking fine, thank you very much. The lie only made him angrier. “Just stop asking me that.” 

Even blinked over at him in surprise and then slowly removed his hand from Isak’s, leaving him feeling lost and alone. Isak’s heart fell. What the fuck was he doing? “Okay, but why are you yelling at me?” Even asked, a bite in his voice that Isak knew well. He was preparing for a fight. 

That should have been enough to silence Isak, but his mouth continued on before his head could catch up. “Because you never seem to fucking understand when something is none of your goddamn business.” He could hear the words coming out of his mouth, could hear himself voicing fears he had never spoken aloud, but he just couldn’t stop. “You have no boundaries. You never have! For months, I would come over here and you would flirt with me even though you knew it made me uncomfortable—No, you know what?— _because_ it made me uncomfortable. And I—” 

“Well, excuse me,” Even interrupted, his voice like cold steel. Isak needed to move, needed to be doing something, so he grabbed both his and Even’s plates and lugged them into the kitchen, dropping them into the sink with a _clang_. Even got up and followed him, still talking. “I’ll stop flirting with you altogether then. Is that what you want?” 

No, no that wasn’t what Isak fucking wanted. “Maybe,” he snapped. 

Even shook his head, eyes already mid-roll, and Isak could feel all of the progress they had made over the past month start to crumble. Tears of frustration prickled behind his eyes, but he brushed them away before Even could see. The logical part of his brain was telling him to stop, to apologize, to explain to Even that he was hurting and angry and for some reason all of those emotions were being unleashed on him even though he didn’t deserve it, but his breathing was too heavy, his heart beating too fast for him to stop now. 

“This is all probably just some sort of game to you anyway,” Isak continued, surprised when this anger began to flag into something more self-deprecating. But he was thinking about his father now and how he was never good enough for him, no matter what he did. He wouldn’t be good enough for Even either. This wasn’t his life—it was a dream, a fairytale. He didn’t get to be this happy. He didn’t deserve it. 

Even’s face was redder than Isak had ever seen it and when he opened his mouth, Isak was positive that he was about to start yelling, but instead he just shut it again and took a deep, steadying breath. “Why are you _really_ yelling at me?” he repeated, his voice calmer this time. It only served to rile Isak up further. _Get mad at me, damn it._ _Make me feel something_. 

“I just told you!” he snapped and then ran his fingers through his hair, starting to feel slightly crazed. “God, I don’t even know why I’m here. This is never going to work out—I mean look at us! Barely an hour into our first date and we’re already at each other’s throats.” 

“You’re at _my_ throat,” Even corrected calmly. “And I wasn’t aware this was a date. Usually my dates involve a lot less yelling.” 

Isak blushed brightly “Oh, fuck you,” he hissed. “We’re not good for each other—do you not see that? You bring out the worst in me. We bring out the worst in each other.” 

Even sighed and, once again, asked, “Isak, why do you keep yelling?” 

“Why do you keep letting me?!” Because he did. He stood there and took every last blow, absorbing the impact that Isak was trying to launch at himself, and it was only as Isak calmed, staring over at the boy who seemed to understand him better than he’d even thought possible, that he found the answer to Even’s question. He was yelling because he needed to yell and he trusted Even to let him do it without holding it against him afterwards. Because he had already seen Isak at his worst and yet, here they were. 

“Keep going,” Even said, confirming his suspicions. “Get it all out.” Isak crumpled at his words and leaned back against the counter behind him, his chest heaving uncomfortably. “No, please,” Even continued. “Anything else you want to say? Any other doubts you have? You want to talk about that girl I fucked when I thought you were in love with Jonas and I was searching for literally _anything_ to get you off my mind? You want to talk about the hours I’ve stayed awake, thinking about you and whether or not you were sleeping? I’m not blind. I see how you look at your phone sometimes. When your mom texts you, when your dad texts you.” He stepped away from the wall he was leaning against and walked closer to Isak, causing his breathing to quicken further. “Let me help you, Isak. Because I don’t care what you think. You bring out the best in me and I am _trying_ so hard to bring out the best in you. So can we just—” 

Isak wasn’t sure what came over him then—whether it was the flush of Even’s cheeks or the words coming out of his mouth—but before the adrenaline could fade and he lost his nerve, Isak rushed forward, closing the distance between them in only a few steps, and pressed their lips together. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it wasn’t meant to be. He kissed Even hard, pushing him back into the cabinets behind him with a _bang_. Even broke the kiss just long enough to say “ow,” but then Isak was on him again, cupping his face in his hands to hold him still. He half expected Even to push him away—to start yelling once more, to refuse to let Isak distract him from his anger—but instead, he kissed him back with a desperate hunger that Isak had never seen in him before. 

He grabbed Isak’s hips, his fingernails digging into the skin so tight that Isak knew there would be indentions there when Even released him, and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Isak, in turn, tangled his fingers into Even’s hair and yanked, swallowing the surprised gasp that he released. It was like they were continuing their argument without words, channeling that passion into something more enjoyable. But still, it wasn’t enough. 

Isak ran his hands down Even’s chest until he came to the first button on his shirt and began undoing it adeptly. Even groaned into his mouth once he realized what was happening, but before Isak had even moved on to the second button, Even was pulling away. 

“Isak,” he warned, shaking his head. Isak looked up into his eyes and found the pupils already swollen with desire. The sight sent a shock of lust straight to his groin. 

“What?” Isak asked, nuzzling closer, daring the boy to give in and kiss him. Even swallowed hard, but had more will power than Isak had given him credit for. 

“Isak,” he said again, his voice shaky. “I can’t do this until you tell me what’s wrong. I don't want to be just a distraction.” He steeled himself, like he expected Isak to start yelling again, but Isak just sighed, running his fingers through Even’s hair, trying to soothe him like he would a child. 

“Even,” he said on an exhale, hoping he could hear the apology in his voice. “You could never be just a distraction. Nothing’s wrong. Not any more. Not now that I’m with you. You make everything better.” 

Even looked at him hard, but quickly seemed to sense that Isak wasn’t lying. It was hard to mistake the raw vulnerability in his voice. He felt like he had torn his heart out of his chest and was holding it out, waiting for Even to take it, to cherish it, to keep it safe. 

“Fuck,” Even sighed and then lunged forward until they were kissing again, curious hands roaming bodies, trying to strip each other of both their clothes and their reservations. 

“Bedroom,” Even said seconds later and while Isak certainly agreed with the idea, he was too distracted kissing him to actually do anything about it. “Isak,” he warned, holding the boy back so he wouldn’t jump him again. “Bedroom.” 

Isak rolled his eyes and pulled away just far enough to whisper against his lips. “Make me.” 

Even growled at that— _actually_ growled—and, before Isak could stop him, had grabbed him by the thighs and lifted him until his legs were wrapped around his waist. Isak laughed in delight at the smug grin on Even’s face. 

“Fine,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss the tip of Even’s nose. “Take me to your bedroom.” 

They kissed all the way there, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Even kept ramming him into walls, like he had lost all sense of depth perception, but after the third time, when he held him there and used the leverage to deepen their kiss, used his thumb to open Isak’s jaw impossibly wide so that he could lick inside his mouth and taste him, he thought he might just be doing it on purpose. 

Isak finally managed to get Even’s shirt unbuttoned and pushed it to the floor right there in the hallway, breaking the kiss just long enough to look down at the hard lines of his body, his abs straining from the weight of holding him up. Isak licked his lips. 

“Bedroom,” he repeated, more urgently this time, and surprisingly, Even actually listened to him, setting his feet back on the ground so that they could run together to Even’s room, slamming the door shut behind them. Even fell back onto the bed, dragging Isak down on top of him, and then the two of them were rolling around the sheets, desperately trying to get closer, to feel _more_. 

Even reached for the hem of Isak’s sweater and pulled it over his head, the soft-knit wool causing his hair to stand on end with static electricity. Even laughed and pulled him closer so that he could smooth it down and Isak’s heart did a somersault in his chest. Isak’s belt went next and then, not be outdone, so did Even’s. They reached for each other’s clothing like it was a race to see who could undress the other first and, after only a minute, the two boys were naked, Isak straddling Even’s waist as he laved wet kisses onto the side of his neck, enjoying the way that Even squirmed beneath him at the press of his lips. 

He could feel Even’s dick hard against his ass, pre-come painting a wet line on his skin. His own was standing tall against his stomach, practically dripping as he rubbed himself off against Even’s abs, his movements frenzied as he began to chase his own orgasm. They were both panting, their hands trembling as they explored each other’s bodies. When Even finally spoke, his voice was shaking. 

“Isak, what do you want?” he asked and he sounded desperate, like if he didn’t find out right that second, he just might die. 

Isak forced himself to stop moving as he thought about the answer. “I want to fuck you,” he finally said. He needed that little bit of control returned to him after his father had so rudely taken it away, but that wasn’t the only reason. He wanted to be inside of Even, to know what it felt like for there to be no distance between them at all. He wanted to feel their hearts beating together. He wanted to take care of Even the way Even was taking care of him. He was new to the whole falling in love thing, but _this_ , he knew how to do. 

Even bit his lip and for a second, Isak thought he was going to tell him no, but instead, he nodded eagerly, his cheeks flushing beneath Isak’s unwavering attention. “Fuck, yeah, do it,” he said and then pushed Isak back just enough so that he could scoot out from under him and fish lube and a condom out of his bedside table. 

“Hope it’s not too big on you,” Even joked as he passed the condom to Isak. 

Isak rolled his eyes and then looked down at his dick pointedly. “I mean, if you’re not man enough to take it…” He moved to climb off of the bed, but Even whined and pulled him back down on top of him. 

“I’m sorry. Don’t go,” he said, bringing their lips together in a kiss that was more tongue than anything. “You’ve got a beautiful dick. I’m not worthy.” 

Isak smiled against his lips as they continued to kiss, the fire quickly building in their blood once more. Isak slowly began to stroke Even’s dick until it was leaking all over his hand and Even, in turn, scratched his fingernails down Isak’s back, successfully channeling some of his pleasure into Isak as well. Eventually, however, Even pushed him away, his breath ragged. 

“Stop, stop,” he muttered. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that.” 

Isak nodded and instead focused his attention lower, grabbing the small bottle of lube and opening it with a _snick_. He poured a generous portion onto his fingers and warmed it between them before pressing a tentative touch to Even’s hole. Even moaned and, to Isak’s surprise, opened for him immediately, taking one finger with no resistance at all. 

“Fuck,” Isak muttered, enraptured, watching as his finger disappeared into Even's body over and over. Even reached out and tangled his own fingers in Isak’s hair—not pulling, just touching—like he needed something to tether him to the bed to keep him from floating away. 

One finger quickly became two, and two became three, Even thrashing beneath Isak’s touch as sweat began to bead on his forehead. Even once he was loose, well-prepped, and begging, Isak kept taunting him, curling his fingers up to rub against his prostate until the muscles in Even’s stomach were practically vibrating with the effort he was exerting to keep himself from coming. It wasn’t until Even moaned an almost inaudible “please” that Isak relented, pulling his wet fingers out of his ass and wiping them clean on the sheets that they were about to dirty anyway. 

Even opened his mouth and Isak could already hear the smart comment on his lips, so he silenced him with a deep kiss, reveling in the way he could feel Even’s heart beating hard against his chest, already riled almost to the breaking point from just the prep alone. 

“Isak,” he breathed once he pulled away. “Please.” That was all the permission Isak needed. He grabbed the condom and rolled it on before positioning himself at Even’s entrance, his own dick twitching in excitement, and pushing just the tip inside to let Even get used to the stretch. 

“You good?” he asked after a second, his voice tight as he fought the urge to thrust forward and just _take_ , but Even only seemed annoyed by the question. He let out a groan of frustration and grabbed Isak by the ass, pulling him forward, forcing him to enter Even with one long, deep thrust. They both moaned at the feel of being joined together so intimately for the first time and Isak drank up the sound like it was water and he was dying of thirst. 

He stayed still, waiting for Even to relax around him, but he didn’t have to wait long. Even barely gave himself time to adjust before he was using his hands and his hips to drag Isak forward, forcing a nice, slow rhythm out of him. The hot, wet drag of his dick in and out of Even’s body _burned_. He was so tight—far tighter than anyone Isak could ever remember fucking—and it was dizzying being inside of him, but Isak didn’t think that was just because of the physicality of it. No, it was something else. It was the way that Even’s bright blue eyes stayed on his the whole time, his mouth opened in a small “o” of surprise. It was the way his fingers traced patterns over Isak’s bare skin, worshipping the body that was in turn worshipping his. 

Sex had never been a give-and-take for Isak. It had always just been a _take_. Now, with Even beneath him, pleading for _more_ and _faster_ and _harder_ , he realized that until this moment, he hadn’t known what he was missing out on. For the first time, he felt needed. He felt wanted. He felt like he was enough. He had thought pain was the answer to pushing his father out of his mind, but he was wrong: it was love. 

Isak rocked into Even’s body, his heart so full he thought it might explode out of his chest, and, much to his surprise, he felt tears begin to sting his eyes because now, for the first time, he understood why he had pushed Even away from the very beginning. The people he loved tended to leave him and it was far easier to just never love at all. There was a part of him that was scared of this feeling inside of him—this love that was just starting to bud—and the thought of Even seeing him as someone worth sticking around for, through both the good and the bad, was enough to make his rhythm falter, but Even was there to steady him. 

He used his body weight to flip them, allowing Isak to lie back on the bed while Even took control, raising up onto his knees to pull himself off of Isak’s dick and then sitting back down on it again. His pace was slow at first as he got accustomed to the new angle, but he gradually picked up speed, riding Isak like that's what he was born to do. Isak kept his hips planted on the bed and let Even do the work, reaching out to feel the way his abs rippled with the strength it was taking to keep up the desperate pace he had set. 

“Fuck,” Isak breathed, running his fingers over Even's sweat-slick skin, his heart starting to feel like it was cracking open in his chest. “You feel so fucking good.” 

“So do you,” Even groaned, leaning down to nuzzle into Isak’s neck. It changed the angle, made Even feel even tighter around Isak’s dick, and Isak knew he was close, but he was determined to hold off until Even found his release first. He reached out and grabbed Even's dick—which was almost purple it was so hard—and stroked him in time to the movement of their bodies. Even whimpered, his whole body collapsing on top of Isak’s as he lost his rhythm completely, but Isak kept going, stroking him harder and faster, just like he’d asked for, and soon Even was letting out a strangled moan as white cords of come painted Isak’s chest. As he came, his body milked Isak’s orgasm out of him as well until they were both a sweaty, writhing mess tangled up in Even’s bed sheets. 

“You know what I’ve decided?” Even asked a little while later once their breathing had slowed and they had both cleaned themselves up a bit. Isak was lying on Even’s chest, already half asleep, but he burrowed further into him to let him know he was listening. “Me and you are the biggest idiots in the world. Why weren’t we doing this months ago?” 

Isak laughed. “Because we hated each other months ago.” 

Even grumbled, like he didn’t quite agree with that assessment, but decided to counter the argument anyway. “I think the sex still would have been just as good even if we _did_ hate each other.” And that, Isak couldn’t argue with. 

“Go to sleep, Even,” he smiled, kissing him firm on the lips before burying his head in his chest once more. 

“Fine,” Even said, pulling Isak closer. “I’m just saying—so much wasted time!” 

So they settled into Even’s warm bed together and, for the first time in a very long time, Isak slept. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this story is already winding down. There's just one chapter left and then a short epilogue. Thank you so much for reading and let me know what you think!


	6. Even

When Even awoke the next morning, Isak was still asleep with his head pillowed against his chest. That alone was enough to bring a smile to his lips, but with every steady breath that Isak took, Even's heart swelled just a little bit more. He was sleeping. Isak was _finally_ sleeping. Even was scared of moving too much, not wanting to accidentally wake him when he so obviously needed the rest, but he _was_ able to turn and grab his phone off of the bedside table to check the time. His smile only grew wider: it was after eleven and Isak was still asleep. 

He put the phone back down and then just stared at the miracle burrowed half on top of him beneath the covers. The morning sun was streaming through the windows, painting Isak's skin gold, and his blonde eyelashes were fanned against his cheeks, making him appear younger than he actually was. He looked so innocent lying cradled against Even’s chest and all he wanted to do was protect him from the demons keeping him awake at night—even if he didn’t know what those demons were. 

He still had no idea what Isak’s freak-out the night before had stemmed from and there was a small part of him that did worry Isak would wake up and regret everything—that he had been too out of his mind with stress or grief or whatever the hell it was to make rational decisions—but he stopped that line of thought before he could work himself into a panic. It wasn’t important right now. What _was_ important was making sure that Isak slept, so he just laid there, occasionally running his fingers through the boy’s hair, waiting for him to wake. 

In the end, Isak’s body woke before his mind did. He nuzzled his cold nose farther into Even's chest, searching for warmth, while his hips began to thrust rhythmically against his thigh. He could feel that Isak was already hard, his mind lost in a fantasy, and he allowed him take his pleasure as he traveled those last few miles out of the realm of dreams. Before he could build up any workable rhythm, however, his movements stalled and his eyes blinked open in a flutter of eyelashes. 

Even held his breath, waiting for Isak to yell or spring away from him, horrified by what they had done the night before, but, to his surprise, Isak just tilted his head up, not even bothering to lift it completely off of Even’s chest, and gave him a coy, satisfied smile, which Even eagerly returned. 

“Hi,” he said and Isak’s smile widened as his cheeks flushed. He buried his face in Even’s chest to hide his embarrassment and Even let him, wrapping the blankets around them tighter to keep them both warm. 

“I thought I had dreamed last night,” Isak said, his voice muffled by Even’s body. 

“Well, I hope the reality isn’t a disappointment,” Even replied. He said it like it was a joke, but there was a not-so-small part of him that worried it actually might be. 

Isak immediately shook his head, like the very thought was ridiculous, and pushed himself onto his knees so that he could hover over Even and smile down at him with a familiar hunger in his eyes. “Nothing about you has ever been a disappointment,” he said, rubbing his nose against Even’s like a kitten. The fear inside of him evaporated and before he could overthink things, he sat up just enough to capture Isak’s lips in his, pulling him back down so that he was draped lazily across his body as they kissed. 

They kissed for a long time, basking in the afterglow from the night before as they ignored the day’s worth of studying they had to get to eventually. What finally broke them apart was the sound of the apartment door opening and then slamming shut again. They both turned, watching Even’s door expectantly, but Jonas never knocked. Even heard his familiar footsteps plod down the hall and then step into his own room, the door clicking shut behind him. Even breathed a sigh of relief, making Isak chuckle. 

“This is so weird,” he said, crossing his arms over Even’s chest and resting his chin on them so that he didn’t have to move, but they could still talk. 

“What’s weird?” Even asked, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Isak's ear. He leaned into the touch. 

“Being here at the same time as Jonas and not wanting to run across the hall to say hello.” Even’s lips twisted into a pleased smile. “He probably doesn’t even _know_ I’m still here. It’s weird.” 

“Good weird?” 

Isak snorted. “This whole thing is good weird.” Sensing that that was probably the closest to a compliment he was going to get, Even laughed and then the two boys just lay there, blue eyes staring into green. They were both still naked, half-hard beneath the covers, but neither of them moved to do anything about it. It was nice, having Isak’s body molded to his, feeling his warmth seep into him. Even wished he could just leave things as they were and not risk angering Isak when he looked so content, but he needed answers. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper. He didn’t have to say more for Isak to know what he was talking about. 

He heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah,” he said, rolling off of Even so that he could collapse onto the bed next to him. “Sorry about all that. You were so fucking perfect and I just went and ruined everything. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” 

Even leaned down and placed a hard kiss on top of Isak’s head. “You didn’t ruin anything, Isak,” he said after a minute. “I mean, look where we ended up.” Isak chuckled at that, kissing the inside of Even’s arm, which was still wrapped around him. “I can handle you when you’re angry,” Even continued. “I’ve done it before. I can take it. I just…You scared me, that’s all.” There was a long pause, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking one last question, trusting that Isak would allow him his curiosity. “What happened?” 

Isak’s foul mood from the night before was gone and he didn’t seem particularly bothered by the question. Still, it took him a while to deliberate his answer. “Has Jonas told you about my mom?” he finally asked. 

“A little bit,” Even admitted. “He said she’s sick?” 

Isak nodded and then seemed to get lost in his own mind for several long seconds. “She’s schizophrenic,” he explained, his voice weary. “And even with meds, it’s not well-controlled. She lives alone and she can’t always take care of herself. She stops eating, she gets violent. My dad called last night to tell me that he’s moving her into a nursing home—which will be better for her in the long run, I know that. It just makes me so mad because _he’s_ supposed to be the one taking care of her, you know? But he doesn’t want to, so he’s locking her away instead. I know I’m not the best son in the world—I don’t visit her nearly as much as I should—but I do _try_. I just hate this. I hate _him_.” 

There were a lot of things Even could say—things about mental illness and recovery and how getting his mom the help she needed was the most important thing—but he knew nothing he said would actually make Isak feel any better. “I’m sorry,” he said instead, reaching out to run his fingertips over the soft lines of Isak’s face, over his eyelashes and his cheekbones. Isak swatted him away, but he was smiling. “But maybe next time just _tell me that_ instead of yelling at me?” 

Isak chuckled, the vibration shaking Even’s body, and looked up at him, his eyes shining with happiness. “Agreed.” 

And then, suddenly, they were kissing again, Isak once again draped over Even’s chest as their naked bodies slotted together and moved in time to the rhythm of their racing hearts. Even was fully hard in less than a minute, already re-playing how good it had felt to have Isak inside of him the night before, and Isak smirked against his lips when he felt that hardness press into him. 

“Eager, are we?” he teased, kissing the corner of his mouth and then his chin and then dragging his lips even lower to suck on the pulse point in his neck. Even, now speechless, just nodded, trying to push Isak off of him so that he could kiss him once more, but Isak was having none of it. He removed his lips from Even’s neck and kissed down his chest instead, pausing only briefly to gently bite one of Even’s nipples before soothing it with his tongue and then continuing his journey lower. 

“What are you doing?” Even said breathlessly, although he already knew the answer. 

“Thanking you,” Isak said, looking up at Even from beneath his eyelashes. He had reached Even’s dick and was hovering over it, waiting, his warm breath causing it to twitch eagerly in anticipation. Even threw his arm over his face to hide the blush he was sure was coming. “For putting up with me last night.” 

Even choked on his own saliva. “For _putting up_ with you?” he cried, lifting his arm just enough to look down at Isak. “What exactly was I ‘putting up’ _with_ because I promise you it was not a chore to let you fuck—oh shit.” He was interrupted as Isak closed his mouth around the head of his dick, using his tongue to lick around the tip before swallowing him down with an expertise Even had naively not been expecting. He groaned and set his arm back down over his face, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left. 

Isak built up a rhythm quickly, holding Even’s hips down with the arm he wasn’t using to brace his cock. He sucked hard on every up stroke, making Even’s toes curl, and then took him deeper every time he went back down. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet and the wet, sloppy sounds only turned Even on more. His body was vibrating with a need for release in an embarrassingly short amount of time, but he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay right here with Isak’s mouth on him forever. 

When he couldn’t hold back any more, he removed his arm so that he could stare into the depths of Isak’s green eyes when he came and found that Isak was already staring right back at him, a smug grin on his swollen lips. 

“Beg,” he commanded, his lips brushing against the tip of Even’s cock as he spoke. 

Even groaned. “Shit, Isak, please,” he said, thrusting his hips up as far as Isak’s grip would allow. He was secretly delighted when his dick ended up slapping Isak across the lips, leaving a smear of pre-come behind. Isak laughed and just licked the liquid off before swiping his tongue along the vein on the underside of Even’s dick and then taking him in his mouth once more. 

Even was on the brink in seconds, not able to restrain himself any longer. “Isak, shit, I’m going to come,” he said and Isak let go of his hips to allow him to move like he wanted. He thrust deeper into his mouth, tangling his fingers in the boy's gorgeous blonde hair, and then— 

The sound of Even’s door opening startled the orgasm right out of him, but thankfully Isak had the wherewithal to grab the blankets and throw them on top of them, leaving only Even’s bright red face exposed, his body still shaking from the aftershocks. 

“Hey, Even?” Jonas started as he stepped into the room, his attention focused on something on his phone. “Have you seen my—?” He broke off once he finally glanced up and spotted the embarrassed look on Even’s face. He first took in the sight of him, then the human-sized lump under the covers, and immediately turned, covering his eyes with his hand to make extra sure he didn’t catch sight of anything he shouldn’t. “Oh my god! Why the fuck didn’t you lock your fucking door?” 

Even, still reeling from both his orgasm and the shock of the whole situation, just shrugged, clutching the duvet around him tighter. “Why the fuck didn’t you knock?” 

Jonas grumbled something that Even couldn’t quite hear, but then raised his voice. “Isak, is that you?” he asked doubtfully, like he thought Even might be hiding someone else in his bed. 

Isak waited probably too long before responding. “Yes?” he said, the answer coming out sounding like a question, his voice muffled beneath the layers of blankets he was hiding under. Even could still feel Isak’s hand wrapped around his dick, like he was too scared to let it go, and the tacky wetness of his come was starting to get uncomfortable. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Jonas snapped. “Took you two long enough. You owe me a pair of headphones now, by the way.” 

Another long pause. “Yup. Now can you please go?” 

“Absolutely,” Jonas said, leaving without argument. He did, however, pause at the door to yell, “I hate you both,” before slamming it shut behind him. 

Immediately, Isak threw the covers back, surfacing into the air like he had been starving for oxygen. Even couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed that Isak’s face was covered in come. It was painted on his cheeks, stuck in his eyebrows. Isak just rolled his eyes. 

“Seriously?” he huffed, using a corner of the sheet to clean himself. “ _That’s_ a hair trigger for you?” 

Even couldn’t hide his amusement, but he pulled Isak over to him and kissed the frown off of his lips, pleased when the boy folded into him, all of the tension leaving his body. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Isak noted, looking towards the door like his last chance at normality had walked out of it with Jonas. 

“There are worse things to be judged for than having sex with a hot guy.” 

Isak snorted. “You sure do think highly of yourself, don’t you? I’ll have you know, this is going to completely ruin my reputation. My last boyfriend was a model. What the fuck have you ever done?” 

Even shrugged. “I once rimmed a guy for so long that he actually started crying. He said it was a religious experience.” Isak froze and Even waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Want to try it?” 

The blush that rose to Isak’s cheeks was answer enough. Even wrapped his arms around him and rolled them so that Isak’s back was on the bed. He screamed in delight at being thrown around and Even didn’t have the heart to remind him that Jonas was in the room next door. 

“Your turn,” Even said, gazing down at him like a predator would before devouring their prey. Isak met his gaze determinedly, eyes sparkling with barely contained mischief, his hips already rolling as he searched for some kind of friction. 

Even then used his mouth to bring Isak to two loud orgasms that Jonas was most definitely going to yell at them for later. 

* 

“So, wait,” Mikael said, laughing at Even’s expense. They had just hit a lull in their shift at the coffee shop and were standing out of sight of the cash register, talking in whispers about Even’s date with Isak on Friday night. “Are you two dating now?” 

Even ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I have no fucking idea,” he groaned. “I never got around to asking him before he started yelling at me.” Mikael laughed harder. “How many mutual orgasms do you have to have before you’re dating? Because we’re at, like, eight and oh my god, Mikael, it’s _so_ good.” Despite the fact that Even could feel the dopey smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he couldn’t actually stop it from happening. 

Mikael waved him off, his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Dude, I didn’t need to know that. And I don’t think you can define the relationship based on orgasms. You’re going to have to talk to him.” 

Even swallowed hard. “I _do_ talk to him,” he said, but it sounded like a lie even to his own ears. 

Mikael cocked an eyebrow doubtfully. “Pillow talk doesn’t count,” he said. “Ask him out on a fucking date—use the word ‘date’—and take him somewhere where there are no beds.” 

Even sighed long and hard, his stomach twisting uncomfortably in his gut. “But what if he only wants the bed and not the date?” 

Mikael frowned, reaching out to grab Even’s arm for comfort. “Then you need to know that _now_. But for what it’s worth, I think he would go anywhere you asked him to—bed or no. You’re not the one who had to flip through hundreds of photographs of the two of you kissing. He’s into you, dude. Just accept it.” 

Before Even could counter Mikael’s argument with all of the dark thoughts that kept him awake at night, the bell over the door chimed and they both ventured back into the main area of the coffee shop to tend to their customers. To Even’s surprise, it was Isak they found standing at the cash register and, as it always did when he was around, his stress about what exactly they were to each other disappeared altogether because he was there now and that was enough. 

“Hey,” he said on an exhale, already smiling brightly. 

Isak smirked up at him. “Hey,” he replied and then leaned across the counter, his lips already puckered for a kiss. Butterflies swarmed in Even’s stomach and it was such an unfamiliar feeling that he almost didn’t recognize it, but, without hesitation, he leaned forward and gave Isak a soft, sweet kiss. 

“What are you doing here?” Even asked, shaking his head in disbelief that Isak was actually standing in front of him, in public, asking for kisses. “I thought Eskild and his new boyfriend had calmed down a bit.” 

Isak snorted. “They have. I just wanted to see you. Hey, Mikael.” When Even turned, Mikael was already standing behind him, smirking like he knew something Even didn’t. He looked towards the counter pointedly and when Even followed his gaze, he was surprised to find that he was holding Isak’s hand on top of the counter. He released it with a small squeeze and then went to make him a hot chocolate, his current drink of choice. 

“Hey,” Mikael greeted, leaning over the counter to talk to Isak better. “Did Even tell you I got an A on my photography project?” He then pulled out his phone and began flipping through some of the pictures he’d submitted. Isak acted appropriately enthused by all of them. 

“Here,” Even said when he was done, passing Isak’s drink over to him. Isak smiled his thanks and paid, leaving a very generous tip in his wake. “Trying to bribe me?” Even laughed. Isak just shrugged coyly, like that was exactly what he was trying to do. “I don’t have another break before I get off. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s fine,” Isak said. “I like watching you work. You look sexy in your little apron.” Even rolled his eyes. “No, seriously!” he continued, lowering his voice so that only the two of them could hear. “I’m going to be sitting over there, trying to hide my boner as I think about everything I’m going to do to you when we get out of here.” There was a faint blush on his cheeks, like he couldn’t quite believe he’d said that aloud, but other than that, he showed no signs of embarrassment. 

“Fuck,” Even muttered, shifting slightly as his dick began to plump up in his pants. “I hate you.” 

Isak smirked. “I hate you too.” Then he leaned over the counter, gave Even one last peck on the lips, and left to settle into an empty table by the window. Even watched him go, marveling at what a sight his ass was in that particular pair of jeans. 

“So, you’re an idiot,” Mikael said from directly behind him. Even jumped in surprise. 

“What?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Mikael repeated with a laugh, watching Isak from over Even’s shoulder. “He _definitely_ thinks you’re dating.” 

Even perked up at that. “You think?” he asked excitedly. 

Mikael snorted. “Dude. How many of your hook-ups have shown up here because you look ‘sexy in your little apron’?” 

Even blushed, but he couldn’t help but turn his attention back to Isak, who was pulling his laptop out of his backpack—presumably to get some school work done if he didn’t get too distracted by Even’s sexy apron first. As he was watching, Isak turned to look at him and he smiled so brightly that it warmed Even from the inside out. He wasn’t sure if Mikael was right and they were actually dating or if they were just on the cusp of it, but he couldn’t help but think that if every day were like this, he would gladly spend forever in Isak’s arms. 

* 

They were at another party, but this time things were different. For one thing, they were at Magnus and Mahdi’s apartment, so Even wasn’t worried about whether the fridge was stocked or the furniture ruined. For another, Isak hadn’t left his side all night. They hadn’t come together, leaving Even questioning once again whether they were actually _together_ at all, but as soon as Even walked in the front door, Isak had plastered himself to his side, already a few beers deep, and he had stayed there all night, his fingers tangled tightly in Even’s shirt. He certainly didn’t mind it. 

After being forced to drag him around the room for a half hour, Even finally settled the two of them onto the couch where Isak promptly curled up half on top of him, his knees thrown into Even’s lap. Even rested his arms on top of them to hold him in place. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Isak murmured, reaching out to run his fingers over Even’s eyebrows. He said it like he was completely in awe of Even’s beauty and Even couldn’t help but wonder just how drunk he already was. He was a flirty drunk—Even knew that from watching him at parties just like this one over the past few months—but he had never actually been on the receiving end of Drunk Isak’s advancements. It was a bit unnerving. 

“Thank you,” he replied because that was polite. “You are too.” 

Isak shook his head. “Not like you, I’m not.” He nuzzled his nose into Even’s neck and then kissed the sensitive skin there, leaving a wet patch behind when he finally moved away. Even without words, Even could hear the possessive _mine!_ he was shouting to the room. Even pulled him closer, rucking his shirt up so that he could warm his hand on the hot skin of Isak’s back. Isak hissed at the sudden cold against his bare skin, but soon leaned into the touch. 

“I used to hate you so much,” Isak said with a laugh, tightening his grip on Even’s shirt. 

Even chuckled. “I know you did.” 

Isak shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he argued, like he was offended Even would dare think he was that predictable. “I hated you so much that I just wanted to fuck you all the time.” 

Even actually did laugh at that, burying his face in the top of Isak’s hair to hide what he was sure was a ferocious blush. Isak, however, didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. 

“What?” he cried. “I did! I hated that you were so hot and so smart and so fucking charming. I just wanted to hate you, but you wouldn’t let me, so instead I wanted to fuck you out of my system—just the once—so I could go back to hating you in peace. Does that make sense? I'm very drunk.” 

Even smirked. “You could have just skipped the hating me part and fucked me instead.” 

Isak mulled that over and then shrugged. “I guess. More fun this way, though. Now whenever you yell at me, my body is conditioned to get a rage boner, so all of our fights are going to end in sex. It’s going to be amazing.” Isak then collapsed against his shoulder, his energy seemingly spent. 

Looking around the room, the party was still in full swing. Magnus and a few more of Isak’s friends were doing Jell-O shots in the kitchen, Jonas and Eva were making out on the loveseat next to them, and the music was blaring so loud that Even was surprised Isak could even think about being sleepy. He wanted to leave, to put Isak to bed, but he didn’t want to be rude and duck out too early. 

“Can I ask you something?” he said to Isak, bending down so that he could speak directly into his ear. Isak didn’t bother opening his eyes, but he nodded anyway. “When did you change your mind?” 

Isak smacked his lips like a baby asking for a bottle and it was so cute Even’s heart felt like it might explode. “Change my mind about what?” he muttered, his voice so quiet Even almost didn’t hear him. 

“Change your mind about me.” 

Isak did open his eyes at that, tilting his head up to look at Even without actually moving off of his shoulder. He thought about the question for a long time. “There wasn’t much to change,” he admitted, pulling the sleeve of his jacket down over his hands like he was trying to protect himself from the truth. Even hummed, silently asking him to continue. “I think it was that night in your apartment the day after you kissed me. When we were just sitting on the couch watching _Friends_ and you were _so_ nervous—” 

“I was not nervous,” Even scoffed. 

Isak rolled his eyes. “You _were_ nervous. It was cute. Anyway, I think I realized then that whatever was between us was stronger than I’d ever meant it to be. I didn’t care anymore that you and Jonas were friends because—Well, because I _wanted_ you to be friends. Because…” He trailed off and Even smiled, able to fill in the blank without prompting. 

“Because you wanted your future boyfriend and your best friend to get along?” Isak blushed, but nodded, cuddling closer to Even like he was trying to hide his face. There was a long pause where neither of them said anything at all, both just listening to the sounds of the party going on around them, but as they sat there, tangled together in front of all of their friends, Even couldn’t help but think back to the words Isak had yelled at him on Friday night. Most of it they had sorted out, but there was one comment he hadn’t been able to shake. One comment that didn’t sit right in his stomach and every time he thought about it, it made him sick because he knew where it stemmed from and he hated the thought that he was perpetuating a fear Isak had no business being scared of. 

“You know this isn’t a game to me, right?” he asked quietly, nudging Isak just a bit to make sure he was still awake. Isak went very still in his arms, which was answer enough. “It never has been. I know you have this absurd notion that you’re the one dating out of your league here, but you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” 

Isak looked up at him, his eyes suspiciously bright, and then took Even’s face in his hands and kissed him. Even expected something chaste, but Isak was too drunk to restrain himself and soon they were properly making out, just like Jonas and Eva next to them, and that proximity was just a bit too weird for Even, so eventually he had to push him away. 

“Let’s go home,” he said, his voice deep with arousal. 

Isak, exerting more energy than Even had thought he had left in him, climbed off of his lap, took him by the hand, and eagerly began dragging him to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Magnus called, but Isak didn’t even bother to turn around. 

“I’m going to fuck my boyfriend,” he said, sending Even’s heart soaring. Even turned to Magnus with a sheepish smile, but he didn’t dare argue with Isak. He didn’t want to. Magnus rolled his eyes, but let them leave. 

Even’s car was parked about a block away, so he pulled Isak closer to his side and threw his arm over his shoulder to steady him as they walked. He wasn’t falling-over-drunk by any means, but he was certainly tipsy. Even couldn't help but feel fond. He turned his head and buried his nose in Isak’s golden curls to hide his smile. He knew they weren’t going to have sex tonight—not when Isak was drunk and so tired he looked like he could fall asleep standing up—but even the thought of just sleeping next to him filled Even with joy. 

He unlocked the car once they reached it and helped Isak get settled inside. It wasn’t easy considering that Isak _still_ didn’t want to let go of Even’s shirt for long enough to allow him to walk around the car and get in the driver’s seat. 

“Isak,” Even scolded, but he just grumbled his distaste and held on tighter until Even had to forcibly pry his fingers away. “Ten seconds,” he said and then shut Isak’s door before quickly running around the car and climbing in his own. Immediately, Isak was back on him, trying to lean into his side even though the seat belt was keeping him away. Isak yanked on it to give himself more slack, but he couldn’t quite seem to figure it out drunk, so he eventually just settled back into the seat as Even pulled out onto the main road. 

They hadn’t even made it past the first traffic light, however, before Isak was on him again—except this time, his hand wasn’t tangled in his shirt, but fumbling drunkenly around the zipper on his pants. Even hissed in surprise and swatted him away, but he just came back, more insistent this time, although he seemed to have given up trying to grab the zipper and settled for just groping him over his clothes instead. 

“God, you get hard fast,” Isak mused, gripping him a little tighter through his pants. Even couldn’t help but blush. 

“Yeah, well, you do seem to have that effect on me.” Then, when the ministrations continued, “Isak, seriously, you’ve got to stop that,” Even hissed, grabbing his hand and setting it back in his own lap. “I’m going to wreck the car if you keep going.” 

Isak frowned and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. “Amateur,” he muttered. 

Even shook his head in silent amusement. “Has anyone ever told you you’re spoiled?” he joked, looking away from the road just long enough to see Isak roll his eyes. 

“I’ll show you spoiled,” he grumbled. Even wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he smiled anyway. 

They were quiet after that and by the time they reached Even’s apartment, Isak was already asleep. Even put the car in park, shut off the engine, and then just sat there and stared at him for a very long time. It was dark out, but the street light was shining brightly enough that he could appreciate the gentle curve of Isak’s nose; the way his fingers were curled around the side of the seat, like he just needed to be holding onto _something_ if he couldn't hold onto Even; the way his lips were parted slightly, asking for kisses even in sleep. Even had meant what he’d said earlier: he felt like the luckiest boy in the world. 

He got out of the car and then walked around to Isak, opening the door as quietly as he could and reaching around the boy to unbuckle his seat belt. 

“Isak,” he whispered, running his hand over his cheek, trying to wake him. Isak blinked awake slowly, eyes widening as he realized what had happened. 

“Did I fall asleep?” 

Even chuckled. “Yeah, baby, you did. Let’s get you inside, okay?” So they walked inside together, Isak leaning very heavily on Even, and eventually made it to Even’s bedroom where Isak collapsed onto the bed without prompting and curled up with the closest pillow. He didn’t even fight Even as he removed his shoes and jeans, trying to make him comfortable. 

After that, Even changed into his own pajamas, brought Isak a glass of water that he refused to drink, and then laid down next to him where Isak folded into his side immediately, placing sloppy kisses on first his cheek, then his neck, and finally his chest before going boneless once more. And together, they slept. 

* 

Even once again woke up before Isak the next morning and while one could never go wrong with morning sex, he wanted _more_. He wanted to pamper Isak—to spoil him like he deserved to be spoiled—so he climbed out of bed, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could, and slipped into the kitchen instead, determined to make his boy breakfast. 

The eggs were done and the bacon was sizzling on the stove when Isak walked into the room dressed in only a T-shirt and boxers, Even’s blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He blinked over at Even sleepily, but then, taking in the scene in front of him, smiled. “Did you cook me breakfast?” 

Even scoffed, taking out two plates to begin filling with food. “I made _me_ breakfast,” he lied. “But you’re welcome to have what’s left over.” 

Isak rolled his eyes, but walked over to him regardless, looking over his shoulder as he portioned out two perfect plates of eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit. He was just about to pick up the plates and carry them to the table, but Isak stopped him before he could, turning him around so that he could reach up, take Even’s cheeks in his hands, and place a firm kiss on his lips. He still had the blanket wrapped around him, each of his hands clutching a corner, so Even ended up curtained in the navy blue fleece that he had had since he was a boy. 

Isak’s lips tasted like mint—like he had just finished brushing his teeth—and it was way too early in the morning for Even to have built up any sort of tolerance to his kisses because he soon found that he was addicted to the feel of him, to the soft velvet touch of their lips gliding over each other, to the way their hips slotted together perfectly. He knew he should pull back and let Isak eat the food that he had so carefully prepared for him, but he found that he just couldn’t let him go. Instead, he picked him up, set him on the counter, and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to explore Isak’s mouth, wanting to memorize every inch of him. Isak moaned at the attention, dropping the blanket and letting it pool at his waist so that he could tangle his fingers into Even’s hair instead, scratching his scalp in a way that made him shiver. 

Even was more than hard in his flimsy cotton pajama pants and he was just starting to think that morning sex was going to be a thing that happened after all when they were suddenly interrupted by a throat clearing in the doorway. They broke apart, but didn’t bother letting go of each other. Even did, however, turn his hips so that his erection would be less obvious. 

Watching them with an amused smirk on his face was Jonas, already dressed like he was on his way out of the apartment. “So you two are actually dating, huh?” he asked. “With sleepovers and morning after breakfasts and everything?” 

Even froze, not sure how to respond. Even though Isak had called him his boyfriend the night before, he had been drunk and tired and— 

“Yes,” Isak snapped, tightening his grip around Even’s neck. “Deal with it.” Even tried to hide his delight by burying his face in Isak’s shoulder, but he was sure the boy could feel his smile. 

“Whatever,” Jonas chuckled and Even looked up to smile at his fond tone of voice. He might act put out, but Even suspected he was just glad the two of them had worked their feud out for themselves. “That’s just more skin than I really wanted to see of you this morning,” he said, gesturing to Isak’s bare thighs. 

“Well get used to it,” Isak said, throwing his nose into the air. 

Jonas then began to excuse himself, telling the two of them that he was heading over to Eva’s, but Even wasn’t really listening. He was too distracted by the feel of Isak’s skin beneath his fingers, the sleepy look that still hadn’t quite left his eyes. This boy—this beautiful boy—had just said they were dating and Even was in heaven. When he heard the door shut behind Jonas, he pulled Isak into a tight hug and Isak laughed. 

“What’s gotten into you?” he chuckled, pushing Even back just enough so that he could look into his eyes. 

Even shrugged and averted his gaze sheepishly. “I just wasn't sure if we were dating,” he muttered, his words unintelligible. 

Isak frowned. “What?” 

Then, a bit louder, “I just wasn't sure if we were dating. I mean, I _wanted_ to be dating, but we never talked about it and—” 

“You weren't sure if we were dating?” Isak repeated, clearly unimpressed. “What confused you? Was it all the blowjobs I’ve given you over the past week? Or the way I’ve been stalking you at work? Or that thing I did in the shower the other night that you _really_ seemed to enjoy?” Even growled, his erection back in full force. Isak gave him a smug grin. “Or maybe it was the way I attempted to cook dinner for you Thursday and you actually pretended to enjoy it. I mean, what couple does that, right?” 

“Isak,” Even groaned, begging him to stop. 

“Oh, I’m not done,” Isak said and then continued. “Maybe it was all of the kissing? I can see where that might have confused you.” With each taunt, Even grew harder in his pants, silently cursing that this was his automatic reaction to Isak’s heckling. 

“We just never explicitly stated—” 

Isak rolled his eyes. “Even, you’re my fucking boyfriend. Deal with it. There’s no getting out now. You’re trapped.” He tightened his hold on Even playfully, pulling him in for a quick peck on the lips. “You’re never getting rid of me.” 

Even tried to look annoyed, but ended up smiling instead and Isak’s entire body softened at the sight of him so happy. “You promise?” Even asked, hating how hopeful he sounded. 

Isak leveled him with a look so exasperatingly fond, he could almost hear the words he left unsaid. _We were supposed to be teasing each other, you idiot. You ruined it_. But Even didn’t care. Isak reached out and ran his fingers through Even’s hair. “I promise,” he said. And then, when Even smiled back at him in amazed disbelief. “God, you’re like a puppy. When did I start thinking that was cute? I’m supposed to hate you.” 

Even nuzzled Isak’s nose with his before kissing him with every last ounce of passion he had inside of him. When he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily and Isak looked dazed by the intensity of it. There were three words dancing on Even’s tongue—words he meant and wanted to say—but it felt too soon, so instead he spoke words more familiar to them. 

“I hate you,” he whispered against Isak’s lips, his voice so full of love that it would be impossible to mistake his meaning. 

Isak blushed, his face glowing so brightly under the stark lights of the kitchen that Even knew he would remember this moment forever. Then, more shy than he had ever seen him, Isak turned, their future sparkling in his eyes. 

“I hate you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story proper, but there is also an epilogue coming up next! Thanks so much for reading <3


	7. Epilogue

Isak’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the slick shower wall, but he didn’t find any as Even continued to suck bruises into his neck. The glass wall behind him was cool against his flushed skin and since Even’s back was blocking the steady stream of scalding hot water, his body was chilled. But Even was pressed against him, sharing his body heat, and he didn’t think he had ever been so simultaneously hot and cold at the same time. It was a paradox. Just like Even. 

The steam rose between them, almost choking Isak it was so thick, and that plus Even standing so close, kissing his neck and his face, letting his hands roam his wet body—it was dizzying. 

“Even,” Isak choked out, begging, although he wasn’t quite sure what he was begging for. 

They had been doing this for months now, but every time they were together it still felt new and different and wonderful. But sex here, in this shower, actually _was_ new and different and wonderful. It was a last hoorah, of sorts. Something taboo—something they’d never dared to do in a bathroom Even shared with Jonas—but if they were ever going to do it, it had to be today, and Isak refused to let the opportunity pass them by. 

Even grabbed Isak’s shoulders and turned him around so that his chest was pressed against the glass and then immediately started attacking his neck once more. Isak moaned, thrusting his hips backwards to try to attract Even’s attention lower, and it seemed to work because Even’s lips moved from his neck to his shoulder, still licking and sucking like he was trying to remove the water from his skin with his tongue, and then, before Isak really had time to process what was happening, Even slapped his ass hard, the sharp sound echoing loudly in the enclosed space, and then fell to his knees. Isak almost came right then, without any stimulation at all. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “What the fuck are you doing?” He looked over his shoulder and found that Even was smirking, looking at the red mark he had left with his pupils dilated in arousal. 

“What does it _look_ like I’m doing?” Even asked, reaching up to part Isak’s ass cheeks. Isak faced forward once more, resting his forehead against the glass in front of him in hopes that it would cool him down a bit, but it didn’t really work. He felt Even’s tentative finger begin to circle his hole, asking permission to enter, and Isak just thrust his hips back harder, this time knowing exactly what it was he was begging for. Even was more than happy to oblige. 

He used his tongue first, licking a long line up from Isak’s balls, and then began pressing experimentally against his rim, as if he were trying to see just how prepared Isak already was. The answer was _very_ and Even should have known that. They had been having sex all day—a series of lasts that they were soon going to have to turn into a series of firsts. If Isak had known that moving out of their own apartments and in with each other would mean he got to have this much sex, he would have done it a long time ago. 

Even laved one sloppy kiss right on his hole and then went to work, using his tongue, his fingers, and the lube they had dragged into the shower to stretch him open quickly. It didn’t take much and with every swipe of Even’s fingers in and out of his body, the fire in Isak’s belly burned hotter until it matched the temperature of the water raining down on them. 

“I’m good,” he said breathlessly, swatting behind him at Even’s head to make him listen. Often, Even would ignore his protestations, opting to continue teasing him until his legs were a shaky mess and he couldn’t remember his own name, but today he didn’t bother. He stood once more, using his arms to bracket Isak further into the wall and Isak smirked, knowing that Even’s impatience meant that he was already close. 

Unable to resist, Isak reached behind him and grabbed Even’s rock hard dick, giving it a few pumps and enjoying the smooth glide of it in his fingers. Even whimpered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the back of Isak’s neck. 

Isak used his grip on Even to guide him to his entrance, reveling in the way Even’s hand on his hip tightened like he was bracing himself for impact. Isak wondered if it still felt new and different and wonderful to him as well. If his heart still beat wildly in his chest, anticipating the moment when they would become one; if he still craved Isak more than life itself; if he still dreamed about this at night. Slowly, carefully, with his hips jutted back at just the right angle, Isak positioned Even where he wanted him and allowed him to push inside. 

The initial stretch always stole Isak’s breath away and left him reeling, but Even knew that by now, knew to kiss Isak’s neck, to massage his hips until he loosened up. 

“Shit, baby,” Even whispered in his ear, the words feeling strangely intimate when Isak could almost feel the pulsing of Even’s heartbeat inside of him. 

He pushed in all the way until Isak was pressed flush against the shower glass in front of him. The glass was frosted so he couldn’t see out, but he knew that right in front of him was a mirror. He wondered what it would look like to watch Even fuck him. The thought made his cock twitch and he pushed his hips back further, offering Even more. 

Even built up an unrelenting rhythm, skin slapping against skin as water droplets continued to fall from their bodies, painting them in wet streaks. Isak let him take what he needed, his nerve endings extra sensitive as the water allowed Even’s hands to slide across his body with no resistance at all. He leaned into Even’s touch, felt himself melt at the soft kisses he peppered along his back. When leaning forward against the wall got uncomfortable, Isak changed the angle, standing tall so that he could rest his head back against Even’s shoulder instead, searching for more air amongst the thick fog. Even whined at that, pulling him closer like he just couldn’t resist, even though that made his thrusts more shallow. Still, he was hitting Isak’s prostate every fucking time, their bodies grinding together relentlessly. 

“Shit,” Isak hissed, his whole body trembling. They’d fucked against walls before, usually after fights when their adrenaline was pumping so hard that they couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, but he had underestimated just how hard it was going to be to remain standing for this. 

“Are you close?” Even asked and Isak nodded. “Okay, just hold on a few more minutes for me. I don’t want it to be over yet. Feels too good.” 

Isak felt a flush spread across his chest at the praise as Even’s thrusts got deeper. He could feel him everywhere, from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes, and if he could pick one moment to live forever, he thought it just might be this one. 

When Even’s hips started stuttering and the sounds coming out of his mouth got more breathless—more broken—he reached around Isak, pushing him back from the wall just a bit so that he could grab his dick in his hand and start stroking it in time to his aborted thrusts. And _god_ , Isak was close. He had been standing on the edge of that cliff for what felt like an eternity now, just waiting to jump, and his body couldn’t take it any longer. 

“Fuck, Even, I need to come.” He sounded a bit hysterical, but he didn’t even care. Slowly, he felt Even nodding behind him. 

“You can come for me now, baby,” he whispered and Isak’s body responded to the words like it had been conditioned to, splashing come on the glass wall in front of him, his guttural moan echoing loudly in the small shower. Even stroked him through it, his own pace getting more and more desperate, and although Isak was sensitive after his orgasm, he let Even use his body for his own pleasure and it didn’t take long before he was spilling inside of him, his face once again buried at the base of Isak’s neck, like he had found some comfort there. 

Isak reached behind him and ran a soothing hand over Even’s worn out thighs. He could feel them trembling and it was possibly the most flattering compliment he had ever been given. 

“Come on,” he said, turning so that Even was forced to pull out. He looked slightly dazed, like he was still a bit out of it after his orgasm, so Isak leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips. “Let’s actually get clean and then you can bask in the afterglow.” 

The good thing about shower sex (aside from the actual sex part) was the easy clean up, although Isak did have to scrub a bit to get his come off of the wall because he had certainly made a mess. He did the best he could and just hoped Jonas wouldn’t notice. But who was he kidding? Jonas always noticed. 

Even climbed out of the shower first and wrapped Isak in a warm, fluffy towel before doing the same to himself. “The shower in the new apartment isn't this big,” Even frowned, leaning in the kiss Isak on the cheek, his hair dripping all over both of them. “May be the last time we do that for a while. We’d probably drown if we tried it in the new one.” 

Isak just shrugged. If they were desperate enough, he would find a way. He was very resourceful when it came to having orgasms. 

Even stuck his head out of the bathroom door to make sure Jonas wasn’t close by and then the two of them ran together to Even’s room, being careful not to trip over the mountains of boxes that littered the hallway. Even’s room was much less crowded, his parents having moved most of his large furniture out the day before, but there was still an overwhelming number of bags and boxes lying around that would start to stress Isak out if he thought about them too much. 

“Chill,” Even said, noticing where his gaze had traveled. "Stop worrying. It's going to be fine." He pulled him close and gave him a reassuring kiss on the forehead. Then, because he was the best boyfriend in the whole world, he tossed Isak sweatpants and a T-shirt to change into so he didn’t have to re-wear his stale clothes from the day before. 

They made their way into the living room after they were done, Isak clinging tightly to Even’s arm because he just didn’t want to let him go. Not yet. The apartment was still empty, which meant that Jonas hadn’t yet returned from Eva’s where he had been hiding out for his own well-being. Noise-cancelling headphones only did so much. 

The two of them settled onto the couch with Even’s legs thrown Into Isak’s lap and turned on the TV, but it ended up only being background noise. They were too wrapped up in each other—quite literally—to be paying it any attention. Isak had long hypothesized that Even was the single most distracting person in the world and he was pretty sure he was right about that. He was talking about some project he was working on for his film class, but Isak was watching his lips instead, imagining the soft curve of them against his own, and ended up interrupting him mid-sentence with a kiss. And then another. And then another. By the time they heard the front door open and pulled apart for propriety’s sake, both of their lips were swollen and there was no hiding what they’d been up to. Not that they bothered. 

Jonas took one look at Isak’s rumpled clothes and wet hair and glared at them both in turn. “Shower sex?” he asked and they didn’t bother replying because he obviously already knew the answer. “Well, I’m certainly not going to miss that.” 

Isak scoffed. “You act like we have sex all over the apartment. You only walked in on us the once. We’ve been…considerate.” 

Jonas just kept glaring. “Once was enough.” 

“That reminds me,” Even said, swinging his legs off of Isak’s lap so he could turn to see Jonas better. “Which one of us is getting custody of Jonas now that neither of us live with him? I don't want to have to share him with you all the time.” 

The question took Isak by surprise and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Um, _me_ ,” he decided. “I’ve known him for longer.” 

“Maybe,” Even allowed. _Maybe?_ “But he likes me better.” 

“He’s right,” Jonas said immediately. “I do like him better.” Even gestured to him with gravitas, as if to say, _See, I told you._

Isak reeled back a few feet so that no part of him was touching Even and Even rolled his eyes. “This isn’t about who likes who more,” Isak explained, trying to remain calm, trying to remember that arguments like these are what had started their problems in the first place. “He’s _my_ best friend. _I_ get custody of him.” 

“Who said he’s your best friend, though?” Even teased, winking at Jonas who just rolled his eyes. 

“You did!” Isak cried. “ _You_ told me that. You said, and I quote, ‘I already have a best friend. You can keep yours.’ You’re not taking it back now!” 

“Oh my god,” Even laughed, completely ignoring that Isak was actually riled up by this point, his face hot and probably blotchy from frustration. “Did I really say that? How desperate was I?” 

Isak opened his mouth to argue, but Jonas interrupted him before he could—which was probably a blessing in disguise. 

“Boys, boys,” Jonas drawled. “I’ve already got it all figured out. Isak gets Mondays and Wednesdays, Even gets Tuesdays and Thursdays, Eva gets Fridays, and we alternate weekends and holidays.” Isak couldn’t tell if he was joking. Even, however, looked at him like he was a genius. 

“Oh my god,” he said, unable to contain the laughter in his voice. “Why didn’t we just do that from the beginning? Isak never would have hated me in the first place. We could have been fucking back in August.” 

“Well thank god I was too stupid to think of it then,” Jonas smiled. “I’m going to take a shower. You two cleaned up in there, right?” Even nodded, but Isak winced. Jonas rolled his eyes. “You two, I swear.” His tone was fond though and when he turned to look at Isak, they shared a small, private smile that was just for the two them. _I’m happy for you_ , it seemed to say and Isak had to resist the compulsion to get up and hug him. “Will you still be here when I get out?” 

It was Even that answered. “Yeah. Moving truck’s not getting here until two.” Jonas looked between the two of them, nodded, and then disappeared around the corner. 

When Even looked back at Isak, he was already glaring. “What the fuck was that?” Isak asked. “Are you trying to steal my best friend? _Again_?” 

Even rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Isak. You know, I’m going to start thinking you love him more than me if you keep this up.” 

“Well, right now I do,” Isak huffed, but Even just looked at him doubtfully and Isak didn’t actually try to stop him from pulling him onto his lap and brushing his still-damp curls off of his forehead. 

“You love me,” Even said, his voice husky as he stared into Isak’s eyes. Isak tried to resist his charms, he really did. 

“I love you,” he repeated because the thought of not saying it tore painfully at something inside of him. He couldn’t even fathom it. “ _But_ ,” he said, putting his finger in the air to emphasize his point. “I don’t _like_ you very much right now. So _hmph_.” 

It was pathetic and childish, but the dark look in Even’s eyes only deepened and to Isak’s surprise, he felt him begin to harden beneath him. 

“Fuck,” Even hissed, his voice breathless. “Now I want to fuck again. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad at me.” 

Isak smiled. “Yeah?” he asked, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Even’s hair. “Well, what are you going to do about it? 

In general, Isak does not consider himself a jealous person—except when it comes to Even. He’s jealous of the way Even loves so deeply, laughs so loudly, fights all of the demons in his head and still survives, day after day. He’s jealous of Mikael and Jonas and all of the other people in Even’s life who get a little piece of his heart. Some days he’s even jealous of himself—his _future_ self. The one who is going to get to grow old with this man, raise a family with him, know him more intimately than today’s Isak could ever dream. So, yes, sometimes Isak gets jealous, but it comes from a place inside of him that loves so deeply it can destroy—the kind of love that can start wars and raze kingdoms to the ground. And as they sat there, kissing with a passion Isak would have never thought possible, he couldn’t help but think that he would suffer it all again for just this one perfect moment, frozen forever in time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sad this story is over, but thank everyone for sticking through with me until the end. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
